Results for "Sri+Lanka+souvenir+artisanat"

Y-a-t-il des risques à se promener seul dans cette belle reserve naturelle qu'est le Peten au Guatemala ?(agressions, animaux ...)

Bonjour,

Nous nous rendons pour la première fois en Thailande cet été, nous n'avons pas encore une idée précise de notre itinéraire, mais nous souhaiterions réserver 2 ou 3 nuits à Bangkok à notre arrivée. On nous a recommandé les hôtels Manhattan ou Nana sur Sukhumvit. Qui connait ces hôtels, et quels sont les meilleurs sites pour les réservations ? Je vous remercie vivement pour tous vos bons conseils. Citronvert

Salut salut la compagnie !

Une année et plus que nous sommes à Madagascar dans la brousse à braver la chaleur, les lézards, les oiseaux qui élisent domicile dans la maison, sans compter les malgaches qui ne sont pas de tout repos non plus ! Chaque jour on découvre une nouvelle facette de ce petit monde perdu, ignorant de nos coutumes barbares tel que : passer des heures devant la télévision, allez manger au MC Do ou tout simplement disserter sur la vie autour d’un bon rouge avec en trame de fond un Gainsbourg à la voix éraillée ! Ce n’est pas plus mal à la place de bon matin on prépare la fête de la papaye en battant la mesure, sur une bassine en plastique vert fluo tout usage ! On découvre ici qu’un seul contenant peux servir à tout, laver les petits mioches, la lessive, la vaisselle, les crabes vaseux, teindre les morceaux de raphia pour faire la vanneries (parfois l’enfant ressort rose), récurer les pieds soumis à la rude épreuve de la vie sans chaussures ou tout simplement pour servir de banc !

Dans sept mois, nous aurons partagé le quotidien de ces hommes et femmes au jour le jour ! D’ici là nous serons encore plus proches, encore plus complices dans la vie de tous les jours pour s’immiscer via l’interprète dans les problèmes de couple de l’une et les envies d’une autre pour tel ou tel mec ! Il ne sera pas facile de quitter nôtre nid douillet, nos connaissances, mais il faudra prendre un nouvel envol pour découvrir autre chose quelques part !

Voilà où nous mène ce petit message… Dans la tête des idées folles pour la suite ! L’Europe n’étant pas encore dans les plans on sollicite vôtre aide pour savoir si un rêve de plus pourra se réaliser !

Rejoindre Katmandou par la route en un mois et vivre sur les sommets de la terre pendant un temps indéfini sont au menu du jour, mais au fond de la brousse, avec Internet qui roule encore plus doucement que notre Kapidolo nationale (petite tortue de terre), et sans bible touristique sous la main difficile de préparer !!! Pourquoi préparer si tôt nous direz vous… Parce qu’on ne compte pas rester plus d’un mois en France entre famille et amis qui feront sûrement tout pour nous dissuader et nous détourner de nos projets de fou !!!

Nos questions portent surtout sur le côté budgétaire…. !! Un an dans la brousse comme bénévoles ça ne nourrit pas trop le compte de banque….Nous pensons que 2000 euros pour deux pour un mois de traversée vers le toit du monde est un bon budget mais on ne sait pas trop si cela est réaliste à la hausse ou à la baisse. Vous en pensez quoi ?

Un petit plan détaillé.

- Nous pensons prendre Eurolines pour Istanbul depuis Munich (enfin si cela est possible sinon ce sera de Paris. (Ivo n’a pas besoin de visa mais moi la canadienne oui combien ?) Est-ce que en tant que canadienne je dois faire faire des visas pour tous les pays de l’europe de l’est que je vais traverser avec Eurolines ?

- Une semaine sur Istanbul (pour visiter et faire le visa Iranien si cela est possible sur la Turquie. Un visa de transit de deux semaines il me semble que cela est possible non ????? Si quelqu’un connaît le prix….moi j’ai dit trente euros)

- Traversée directe de la Turquie vers la frontière Iranienne. Je ne sais plus trop si le bus fait Istanbul- Tabriz directement ou bien si c’est Ankara Tabriz ou si je suis tout simplement dans le patates et qu’il faut changer plusieurs fois de bus.

- Iran deux semaines. Pas d’énormes détours prévus, mais arrêt obligatoire à Ispahan pour la visite mais surtout pour faire les visas Pakistanais (il est possible de les faire dans cette ville non ? A combien revient le visa ?)

- De Bam il me semble encore une fois qu’il y a un bus direct vers : Lahore mais je ne suis pas trop certaine. Nous restons ensuite quelques jours sur place, pour faire le visa indien (encore possible de le faire sur place ?.... Combien de jour ? Coût 50 euros ?), et bien sur pour connaître enfin le Pakistan si cher au cœur de certains.

- Passage frontière pour l’Inde via Amritsar si je ne me trompe pas ? De la nous passerons quelques jours pour voir les lieux ensuite train pour Delhi (passage obligatoire il me semble de tous les trains venant de cette région) suivi presque directement sur Varanassi. La nous passerons quelques jours. Histoire de faire découvrir cette magnifique ville à Ivo qui ne connaît pas encore.

- Varanassi train pour la frontière, bus Tansen 2 jours bus Katmandou.

2000 euros pour tout ça, ça semble réaliste ? Deux personnes vivant d’amour et d’eau fraîche et surtout de bouiboui !

Une dernière question financière, à combien revient un aller simple pour Paris de Delhi ou de Katmandou. J’ai le souvenir d’avoir vu des billets à 400 euros mais c’était à une époque lointaine. Je pense que s’il doit y avoir un retour (si sur place cela ne se passe pas comme prévu) il se fera en Janvier ou Février.

Parvati, Pili et …. J’ai oublié les pseudo ! Je sais que vous avez fait à peu près le même périple il y a quelques mois de ça, si vous pouviez nous briefer un petit peu ça serait vraiment sympa.

Merci à tout ceux qui prendront la peine de nous répondre. Nous venons une fois par semaine sur Internet. Alors n’hésiter pas à laisser plein de message d’ici nôtre prochain passage. Même si nos réponses sont longues à venir elles viennent…..

Ivo & MARSU

bonjour,

nous sommes les heureux parents d'un petit bonhomme qui aura 4 ans en février prochain et nous aimerions partir à l'étranger avec lui. SVP donnez-nous des conseils, faites nous part de vos expériences. quelles sont à votre avis les destinations les plus appropriées pour lui ? comment gérer le décalage horaire ? Comment faire en sorte que ça lui plaise et qu'il veuille repartir ?

merci de vos réponses

😉 salut a touse.......voila les miennes même si le tri est impossible......1 iere au plilippines et la 2 iéme a madagascar....Lolllll a vous ...

bonjours à tous,

pourriez-vous me donner des infos quant au Bangladesh et essentiellement sur Dacca (la capital)..

Merci

A bientôt

Maïa

Le billet d'avion etant un peu cher pour faire Ho Chi Minh - Bangkok,

Quelqu'un sait il si il existe un train entre ces deux villes, et combien de temps dure le trajet.

Merci pour ceux qui ont la reponse.

N'hesitez pas a me donner toute les informations sur le vietnam, je pars un mois pour faire un Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh .. et je regagne la thailande apres pour finir les vacances .... :-)

Bonjour, nous sommes une famille (enfants 7 & 17 ans), nous voulons partir deux mois cet été nous poser dans un endroit cool, hors pression touristique, pour nager tous les jours avec les poissons multicolores...

Avez vous des recommandations particulières notamment par rapport au palu sur les zones cotières...nous avons repéré Ifaty et ses alentours...

Nous sommes preneurs de toute info (hébergement notamment),

Merci,

jon

Ola a todos !

Je pars au Mexique en juillet pour un tour en voiture de loc. J'ai un peu du mal à estimer les distances. Sur le net j'ai vu qu'il fallait 7 heures pour Villahermosa / San Cristobal de las casas (alors qu'il n'y a que 300 km !!😮😕) ; idem pour Campeche / Villahermosa ; ou bien 4 heures pour faire San Cristobal / Palenque. Les durées me paraissent hallucinantes !! Quelques peut-il me donner des infos (confirmation ou pas ...)

Merci a tous

Hello everyone,

It’s something we often notice in this forum—and many others—this behavioral shift.

A long-time member, or even a new one, asks a question. They get one or more answers, some brief, some detailed, and then... nothing???

Not even a simple thank you!!!

From what I’ve gathered, if the answers don’t align with what they wanted to hear, it seems natural for the asker to just disappear!! 😕 Unless—(and I fear this is the case)—basic politeness is no longer part of our society????

Please forgive my little rant.

Wishing everyone all the best. Cheers,

Puma2A



...

The recipe for the cocktail: endless beaches, a dazzling palette of colors, some breathtaking hikes, and excellent cuisine...

For the tasting, follow along in the pages of this travel journal! 😉

Don’t forget your hiking shoes, a swimsuit, sunscreen, but also a sweater, your driver’s license, and your credit card...

Just over 11 hours of flight, and we’ll be setting foot on Mauritian soil!

We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.

In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.

The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.

Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi

On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).

We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.

The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.

In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.

An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.

Hey there, community! Back this weekend, below is my travel journal from my adventure in Indonesia. Enjoy the read!!!

Day 1 - August 10, 2025 New life downloading for three weeks! And for that, Flo and I launched a public tender... A public tender? What’s that got to do with a travel journal???... Well, when you think about it, few destinations tick all the boxes for an August adventure: Meaning, finding a place that’s exotic in the middle of August, not too expensive, not too packed with tourists, warm but not *too* warm, with postcard-perfect landscapes, dreamy beaches, tasty cuisine with a hint of exoticism, friendly and welcoming locals, where you’re free to sleep under the stars among the mosquitos, take transport surrounded by chickens, and even eat from a pig trough if you feel like it—well, turns out it’s not that easy to find! I’d even say, given how thick the list of requirements is, there’s a big risk the tender could be declared unsuccessful for failing to meet just one criterion. Let’s just say the candidates better submit a rock-solid proposal!

After reviewing all the responses and presentations from the candidates, the obvious choice for us is... Indonesia! Except that trying to explore a country as vast as Indonesia and its 17,504 islands in less than five years is a bit like reading the summary of a Proust novel without taking the time to savor each of its 950 pages! Don’t worry, I won’t name them all here. Besides, do they even all have names? No! Only 7,870 have been named—their parents clearly ran out of ideas for the rest. Anyway, our society, which worships the "work more to earn more" mantra, unfortunately limits our adventure time. So we’ll only get to see a small part of Indonesia, and we’ll have to make a tough choice to head for the best of the best in this archipelago of over seventeen thousand islands. Each one has its own selling points: Sumatra, Sulawesi, Java, the Celebes, Bali, Borneo, Papua, Timor, the Moluccas... So many names that smell of adventure... Another tender, another list of requirements, another review of proposals... Drumroll... Splash splash... And the lucky winner is... Ta-da... Java, Bali’s big sister, where I’ve already been eight years ago... Java the programming language. The Java of Broadway. We’re gonna *do* the Java. Java the coffee. And yes, Java is also an island!

This island, four times smaller than France, is home to 136 million people, making it the most populated island in the world! Fun fact: Indonesia, with its 260 million inhabitants, is just shy of the podium for the world’s most populated countries, after the winning trio of India, China, and the United States. And it’s on this island of Java that you’ll find Jakarta, the (soon-to-be-former) capital and main airport of the country, where we’ll soon land after our nineteen-hour flight! Yep, nineteen hours! I mean, Indonesia in general—and Java in particular—is a *tad* farther than going on vacation to Grandma Yoyo’s! Not sure where it is? Easy. Grab a map. Plant your finger on the big island at the bottom right—aka Australia for those who struggle with geography—move it up two centimeters, and bam, welcome to Indonesia!



Nice transition, right? Because "Welcome to Indonesia" is exactly what the friendly flight attendant just said to me as we got off the plane! That’s it, our chakras are open, we’ve arrived at our (air)port. Time for rest, pool, cocktails, and a beach with our toes spread out... Wait, if you bought that, you clearly don’t know us yet! Since we still have energy to burn and need to adjust to the flight and time difference, we tackle the long administrative formalities to enter Indonesia, just to earn the right to hop in a 45-minute Grab taxi to the train station. The train station? What train station?... What do you usually do at a train station? Take a train, of course! Off we go for a three-hour train ride to Bandung, where we’ll officially start our adventure tomorrow after our first Indonesian night...

Unfortunately, we were a bit slow off the mark, which meant we missed the 6:25 PM train by two minutes. Oh well, we’ll have to wait until 11 PM. We take the opportunity to stretch our legs in Jakarta, soak up the atmosphere, and enjoy the delicious smells wafting from the *warungs*—those little typical street restaurants. A quick stop at the National Monument, a detour to a night market to devour our first *kwetiaw goreng* and *teh manis* for 60,000 rupiahs (that’s 3 € for two), and just like that, our penalty is lifted, and we’re allowed to hit the road again. Off to Bandung, where we arrive at 2 AM for... a *very* short night...

Hi there, 🙂

I’m thinking of taking a trip to these two countries in 2026 (late spring to early summer).

I’d arrive in Almaty and leave from Bishkek, and I’d be driving myself.

I plan to spend 1 week in Kazakhstan and 2 in Kyrgyzstan. The itinerary isn’t set yet.

My preliminary questions are about formalities, hassle levels, and the car.

From what I understand, no visa is needed, the passport must be valid for 6 months after entry, and there’s no longer a requirement to register with the authorities at each stop. In short, once you’re in, no administrative headaches.

Except for permits needed to drive in certain regions?

---/---

About crossing between the two countries:

- On foot - In a rental car

Quick? Easy?

---/---

Are both countries safe? (Meaning you don’t have to stay on guard all the time.) Are the cops corrupt? (A little, a lot, passionately, not at all?)

---/---

Is it better to rent a car for both countries or rent a vehicle in each country?

A 4x4 or something else?

Is accommodation plentiful enough that I can skip a rooftop tent, or is it better to rent a 4x4 with one?

I’ll definitely have more questions later...😉

Thanks for your answers !

Hello everyone!

We're off! After exploring the north, the four friends have now discovered the south. We’re excited to share this new travel journal, dedicated to our little group and our strong friendship, written by Richard and illustrated with Kate’s photos. I’ll chime in from time to time with practical tips.

First of all, a big thank you to everyone on VoyageForum who helped us plan this trip. It would’ve been quite different if we’d just relied on guidebooks.

The itinerary lasted just over 3 weeks: Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Thanjavur, the Chettinad region, Madurai, Munnar, Munroe Island, Cochin, and Chennai. We traveled by train, taxi, and private car with a driver, took a domestic flight, and stayed in guesthouses, Airbnb apartments, and hotels. For each of us, including flights, the total budget barely reached 2000 €, and we didn’t hold back—knowing we avoid resorts and love street food and small Indian restaurants.

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.

Salut à tou(te)s. Gagnant du concours d'avril 2020 il m'échoit de vous proposer celui de mai 2020 :

En ce mois de mai propice aux défilés, surtout le 1er en temps normal (sans pandémie donc sans distanciation physique), je vous propose le sujet du concours de photo du mois « Défilés et Cortèges » avec les précautions suivantes :

Ce sera celui de participants au défilé en nombre, en extérieur, pour une cause explicite dans l'image proposée (pancarte ou slogan, costumes, décor...). Ce ne sera donc ni la déambulation d'une foule, même bigarrée, ni une file d'attente, mais un cortège de rue qu'il soit religieux, militaire, funéraire, festif, revendicatif, exprimant joie ou peine, colère ou détermination. La foule qui peut l'accompagner ne sera pas l'objet central de la photo mais son complément (prouvant son audience). Voir l'introduction de l'article Défilé sur Wikipédia : On l'aura compris : pas de défilé d'animaux, de chars, ni de roches fracturées : des gens qui se réunissent pour une cause explicite, affichant leurs costumes, leurs uniformes.

Exemples : Cortège du Palio de Sienne (août 2012) :

Fête des vignerons 2019 à Vevey, bout de fanfare :

Fête des saintes patronnes de Santa Fiora (Toscane - juillet 2009). Toutes obédiences des autorités municipales à la fin de la procession :

Participation Chaque participant(e) peut proposer jusqu'à 3 photos, et ce jusqu'au vendredi 22/05 à 20h00, heure de Paris. Chaque photo sera présentée dans un seul message, en indiquant son numéro (1, 2 ou 3). Pensez à ajouter une petite explication, commentaire, localisation, date de prise de vue.

Vote Chaque membre VF peut voter pour les 3 photos qu'il ou elle juge les meilleures selon ses propres critères et en tenant compte du thème.

Les votes se feront du samedi 23/05 au vendredi 29/05 à 20h00, heure de Paris. Les photos choisies seront citées dans l'ordre de préférence : - la 1re photo : 3 points - la 2e : 2 points - la 3e : 1 point

Un seul et unique vote pour 3 photos est accepté par membre.

Conclusion Le vainqueur est l'auteur de la photo ayant reçu le plus de points. Les résultats seront publiés le 30/05. En cas d'égalité, le nombre de premières places prévaudra. Le vainqueur aura l'honneur d'organiser le concours du mois de juin.

Le diaporama est là. La discussion est là

À vous de jouer !

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

After several discussions on VF about travel journals from the Philippines, I decided to write this curiosity: a trip report from a journey made in 1984, when traveling to the Philippines was still an adventure.

A curiosity because writing a travel journal about a trip 35 years later isn’t common, but also (mostly?) because exploring the Philippines at that time had little in common with traveling there today.

Obviously, I’ve forgotten a number of facts, most of the details, but with the help of a few notes from that time and a stack of slides (yes, there was life before digital 😊), many memories came back and added to the highlights I’d never forgotten. The scanned slides aren’t always great quality, but there are still quite a few to brighten up this chatter. Back then, we didn’t snap photos like we do now—film was too expensive—so I don’t have pictures of every place we visited... too bad, comparing some of those spots to how they look today would’ve been interesting.

Why "Adventures"? Why call it "Adventures" in the Philippines in 1984, a word so often used for a simple exotic trip? - Because the lack of information (no *Guide du Routard*, no *Lonely Planet*, no *Michelin Guide*, nothing, and obviously no internet) gave this trip what’s at the heart of adventure: the unknown. - Because the political situation made the stay sometimes dangerous. - Because transportation conditions were always epic, often perilous. - Because the question of where we’d spend the night came up almost every evening. - And for... quite a few other reasons.

That said, we weren’t exactly explorers!

Why the Philippines? First of all, why go to the Philippines in 1984—a country not exactly set up for tourism and about which we knew very little? How could we get an idea of the beauty of the Philippines and its points of interest when we had no guides or photos?

The idea came to us from Thailand a year earlier, during our first long-haul trip. After touring the north of the country, we met a Frenchman living in Phuket, where there were only a few tourists in Patong, with just a few small hotels and guesthouses. Kata and Karon had no buildings or roads, Rawai only had three palm-thatched bungalows, including ours, and the other islands were unknown to tourists. There was plenty to discover, and we wanted to return to this beautiful country... but the Frenchman made us dream about the Philippines—a country to explore, with wild landscapes.

Long evenings of discussion over multiple Sprite-Mekong cocktails (what memories of those headaches!) finally convinced us we had to go to the Philippines.

Episode 0: Before Departure The decision was made: we’d go to the Philippines in May 1984. Our friends and family were surprised when we announced we were going on vacation to the Philippines (a bit like saying today we were going paddleboarding in the Kerguelen Islands 🤪).

These days, preparing for each of our trips takes long evenings of research, planning, and noting down good addresses... etc. But for the Philippines in 1984, preparation was quick: we had very little information about the country, we were leaving almost at random, and the discovery would only be more exciting.

We still had a few bits of info gathered here and there: the rice terraces in northern Luzon, volcanoes, Negros where we were supposed to visit an acquaintance, Cebu and its marine life (we ended up going elsewhere), and absolutely avoid Mindanao, which was practically at war with the regime. That was about it, but it was already a great itinerary.

Nothing was organized in advance; we’d see day by day. We had no idea about travel times or even the existence of transportation options. The main (and sometimes only) way to connect two islands was by overloaded, rusty ferry. Only the big cities had airports.

Let’s Go: Episode 1: Paris to Manila My travel journals always start after arriving at the airport—the Europe-to-“Other Continent” trip isn’t interesting—but the flight to the Philippines was already an adventure, so I’ll make an exception.

This was the era when only a few Asian airlines were on par with Western ones: Thai, Singapore Airlines, and Philippine Airlines. They had beautiful, brand-new planes, and to attract customers (almost exclusively “businessmen”) from the usual airlines (Air France, Lufthansa, British Airways), there was opulence on board: unlimited champagne, all sorts of cocktails... Compared to today’s long-haul flights, there was still one small difference: no personal screens, just one screen at the front of the cabin with one mandatory movie. And I don’t know why, but we only got James Bond films, both ways... that must’ve been the trend at the time.

The tourism boom to Southeast Asia hadn’t started yet, and the “Asian Tigers” weren’t a thing, so there weren’t many business trips. That meant long-haul flights made stops everywhere to fill the planes. Our Philippine Airlines Boeing 747 left London, picked us up in Paris, then stopped in Frankfurt to take on a few Germans. I don’t know why we then made a stop in Dubai—a totally exotic place at the time. There was nothing to do there... things have changed a lot since. It was a small town lost in the desert. The airport was tiny, with just one or two buildings and a supermarket. During the stopover, everyone had to get off the plane and walk to the supermarket. Photo and electronic equipment were dirt cheap—I guess that was the only reason for the stop. Maybe it was their first commercial move. Emirates didn’t exist yet, as I checked online, but anyway, the idea that such a remote place could have its own airline was unthinkable.

Online, I found this photo of Dubai Airport in 1980. Anyone who’s transited through today’s massive airport with its rows of A380s will appreciate it:

Next stop: New Delhi to drop off some Europeans and pick up a few Indians, and finally, the terminus: Manila. I don’t remember how long the trip took with its five stops—an unimaginable journey today. Despite all those stops to fill the plane, there was still enough space to stretch out on the four center seats of the 747, something that never happens these days despite all the flights in every direction.

So here we are, finally at Manila Airport around midnight.

Episode 1: Manila and Baguio To start, a quick note on the political and economic situation in the Philippines in 1984, which had consequences for us as tourists, as we’d soon realize upon arrival.

After several centuries of Spanish colonization, the Philippines became American at the start of the 20th century, then independent. In 1966, Marcos took power, and little by little, his regime sank into corruption and mismanagement, becoming a dictatorship with martial law, all for the benefit of his family and friends, who enriched themselves endlessly. The peak was the assassination of opposition leader Benigno Aquino in August 1983, which triggered harshly repressed protests. So we arrived a few months later in a very poor country, with omnipresent corruption and an extremely tense political situation, as we’d soon see for ourselves. Major protests took place in the main cities during our trip—I’ll come back to that. Two years later, Marcos fled to Hawaii after being forced out of power following rigged elections. This historical context explains a lot of the situations we found ourselves in over the following weeks.

Arriving in the middle of the night isn’t very cheerful. Manila was already a huge city with many slums, where you could find a few business hotels like the Hilton or Intercontinental—way out of our budget—and plenty of run-down hotels. Luckily, two Indians we’d chatted with on the plane offered to take us to their usual hotel. They came to Manila twice a year for business. We accepted their offer, relieved not to have to look for a place to stay in the middle of the night, figuring the address must be good since they came back every time... we were wrong 🙁

We left the airport and immediately got a taste of the local vibe when we got into the taxi: the police asked for our passports. We thought: what’s more normal than police in a dictatorship?

But that wasn’t it at all. Our two Indian friends explained that the police were noting our names along with the taxi number and time. Crime in Manila was so bad that the taxi driver would be held responsible if anything happened to us... welcome to the Philippines 😎 😎

Historically, the Philippines was a very violent country, where everything was settled with guns or machetes. Previous governments had banned carrying weapons, but Marcos later allowed the free sale and carrying of guns, and disputes were settled with pistols again (or worse, as we’d discover later). Since he’d released most of the criminals from prison to form a paramilitary militia at his service (I’ll talk about our encounter with these “heroes” later), it was pretty dangerous to go into many parts of Manila, where these “tonton macoutes” ruled.

We arrived at our hotel without incident... and then things started badly. The room was infested with big cockroaches—exactly what I hate most in those kinds of countries. No way to find another hotel at that hour. After the long flight, the urge to take a shower was so strong that we squeezed into the bathroom as best we could. After that, I don’t remember—I guess we must’ve fallen asleep exhausted under the sheets in the heat... air conditioning wasn’t widespread yet.

The next day, we just wanted to leave that dump as soon as possible. So we decided to head north right away, stopping in Baguio, and we’d visit Manila a bit on the way back.

When we stepped outside, we discovered a pretty run-down neighborhood with potholed streets. But we also discovered the jeepneys. They were everywhere, flooding the streets.





They had crazy sound systems, each one blasting louder than the last. The interiors were kitschy but fun. There weren’t many private cars—almost all transportation was by jeepney, with buses reserved for intercity trips.





Before heading to the bus terminal for the north, somewhere on the outskirts of the city, we needed to exchange some money. I don’t remember how we ended up in a policeman’s jeep who offered his services: - Exchange money on the black market at a better rate than the banks. - Take us wherever we wanted, in this case, the bus terminal.

We accepted both offers (we’d still checked the official exchange rate from dollars to pesos). So we found ourselves in his jeep. After exchanging money, we left in his vehicle and stopped for gas. Without turning off the engine, he calmly smoked a cigarette while filling up. Since we were in a jeep with no doors or roof, we were ready to jump out if things went south, our travel bag in hand.

But we weren’t done with surprises yet. Once we left the small streets, we ended up in a neighborhood with wide avenues and not much traffic, which didn’t justify his incredible behavior. At every intersection, he made the sign of the cross, closed his eyes, and crossed without looking. I was more stunned than terrified! It wasn’t until we got out of the car later that I told Anne-Marie what had happened. I’d seen everything because the cop had put me in the front seat. Luckily, A-Marie hadn’t noticed anything from the back. Crossing Manila by trusting God rather than the rules of the road was ultimately effective. We were lucky—the trip was off to a good start. 🙂 🙂

We then passed through a neighborhood where slums stretched on for a while, and we left our policeman—friendly but a bit crazy—with relief.

A few hours by bus later, here we are in Baguio, cool in the mountains. My memories of Baguio are pretty fuzzy. I remember a small town. After some research while writing this journal, I found that the population was 120,000 in 1980. Given the population density in each home, that confirms my memory of a smallish town. Outside the “official” district with the president’s summer residence and government buildings, there were two or three paved streets with nice houses. The rest was very dirty and very poor, with lots of slums and dirt roads.







People we met on the street invited us to stay with them. These days, we wouldn’t just show up at strangers’ houses, which we should’ve done in Baguio—it would’ve saved us from an unimaginable and dangerous situation... which I won’t say anything about... !😊

The simple wooden house was on stilts at the edge of a hill with a view of the mountains. Since it was the start of the rainy season in a city that gets a lot of rain, we saw a lot of water. Our outings in town happened between downpours.

View from our lodging:

Episode 2: Baguio to Bontoc Aside from the situation briefly mentioned above, it was on the next leg to Bontoc that the adventure really began: an endless and dangerous road, a bus from another era, breathtaking landscapes, and surprising people.

We didn’t know the distance or how long it would take to get to Bontoc. When we arrived after about ten hours, we learned that Baguio to Bontoc was 140 km.

We got on a bus with wooden seats and settled in, two to a seat meant for two. As the bus filled up, passengers squeezed in three or four per seat, with chickens and baskets full of all sorts of things in the aisle. A little embarrassed, we didn’t know if we should squeeze in three on our seat. The seats were super tight (luckily, Filipinos are small), and I didn’t know where to put my legs given my height. I don’t remember if we stayed alone on our bench or if we ended up sharing with others.



The “road” was a dirt track (or rather, a mud track) with endless turns. We held on as best we could to our slippery wooden seats—it was shaking in every direction. The woman behind us was carsick and throwing up... gross... but what were we doing there? Then we plunged into the Sierra Madre... just the name is dreamy!

Rice terraces started to appear:



they took up more and more space along cliffs where we weren’t always reassured,



with lots of waterfalls (all that water had to go somewhere).

A few miserable villages stretched along the track, most often just a few houses balancing between the road and the drop. The bus stopped in every village—people got on or off and settled inside or on the roof. Street vendors offered their products to the bus passengers—a common sight in Asia, even today.



We were in another world—villagers were in loincloths, others had spears. The atmosphere was strange... but all good, we wanted exoticism, and we got it:

This so-called traditional outfit was everyday wear—it wasn’t for tourists since there weren’t any.