Results for "Luton+|+55+>+228"

😉Hi there, A few months ago, CFC put the EN VOGUE experience on sale, departing from Dunkirk. I booked this package to test the boat and onboard services for myself. I’d read a lot of reviews mentioning numerous issues on board, so I wanted to see for myself what it was really like…

Okay, I’ll stop rambling… The package included boarding at 6 PM on Friday, dinner, a show, an overnight stay, and breakfast. We chose an interior cabin for this experience—since the boat wasn’t leaving the dock, we didn’t see the point in paying more… All in all, it cost 130 € per person. My mom joined us; she got the same cabin for 130 € with no single occupancy supplement.

We’d checked in online to board faster. We took the train to DUNKIRK, then a taxi to the shuttle pavilion—7 € for the ride. When we arrived at the pavilion, we were told to wait because there was a connection issue with check-in. Great start… After about ten minutes, we were finally allowed to proceed. At the counter, they said they didn’t have our cabin cards and no record of our check-in… Very odd. With no solution, they put us on the bus and said we’d sort it out at reception. Perfect. We went through security, and they confiscated our water bottles—never seen that before! Then they said my mom had a corkscrew in her bag, so they searched it… but there was no corkscrew. Total amateur hour… They eventually dropped it.

We got on the bus for a ten-minute ride… We boarded the ship with a crew member and headed to reception. Turns out, we weren’t the only ones in this situation. The nightmare began… Only two staff members were handling all the issues, and everything seemed complicated. They told my mom her cabin had been given to someone else 😲. That was the last straw…

It took forever—they had to redo the entire check-in. Finally, they told my mom her cabin was good to go; they’d mixed her up with someone else… After a solid half-hour, we could finally head to our cabin.

I’m determined to test everything: the pool, jacuzzi, show, restaurant, spa, etc… TO BE CONTINUED

Hello everyone,

For our latest 3-week family trip (yes, the kids are growing up, and two of them are about to enter the working world), we’re heading to South America! For our first time on this continent, I had planned a classic 3-week loop in Peru.

But since we won’t be returning to this part of the world anytime soon, I thought: why not follow in the footsteps of Franck, aka Bibouns51, who, in 18 days, didn’t just stick to Peru but also added two of the planet’s most stunning landscapes to his itinerary... the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia and its neighbor, the fabulous Atacama Desert in northern Chile !!

So, I set about the tricky task of limiting the regions we’d visit in Peru to those we considered must-sees, to avoid rushing too much. The visit schedules were optimized, including several comfortable overnight buses that have the huge advantage of letting us hop between regions.

So, we’re off on a somewhat adventurous trip with three domestic flights (two on the first day and one on the last), two overnight buses for quick hops, several car rentals, the services of a few drivers to make the trip more comfortable, and even a tour operator for crossing the Salar...

Our main concern is altitude sickness, and we’re bringing Diamox, aspirin, etc., just in case.

Our second worry before departure was not even getting off the ground... Yes, for once, we’re leaving from France—Marseille, to be exact. The week before our departure, with the surprise air traffic controllers’ strike, I remembered why we usually prefer to leave from abroad, like Turin or Barcelona... In the end, it wasn’t the air traffic controllers who made us nervous but the early July wildfires that paralyzed the airport a few days before our departure. Fortunately, the fires were quickly brought under control, and on the big day, everything was smooth sailing!

Detailed itinerary (which changed on Day 1 due to departure hiccups): Day 0: Flight Marseille - Madrid - Lima PERU Theoretical and abandoned Day 1: Flight Lima - Cuzco and visit Cuzco (Puka Pukara, Tambomachay, Cristo Blanco Observatory, Sacsayhuaman sunset) - Night in Cuzco Day 2: Taxi -> Chinchero - Moray - Maras Salt Mines - Ollantaytambo - Train to Aguas Calientes Day 3: Machu Picchu - Return train to Ollantaytambo Day 4: 2-day taxi -> Pisac - Tipon - Andahuaylillas - Huaro - Night in San Pedro Day 5: Palcoyo - Checacupe - Vinicunca - Return and night in Cuzco Day 6: Day in Cuzco (catch-up on Sacsayhuaman, San Blas district, Temple of the Sun) - Overnight bus to Arequipa Day 7: Rental car -> On the road to Colca Canyon, night in Cabanaconde Day 8: Descent to the bottom of Colca Canyon, night at Oasis Sangalle Day 9: Ascent from the canyon - Maca - Chivay - Return and night in Arequipa Day 10: Visit Arequipa (Santa Catalina Convent, La Recoleta Church and Monastery, La Compañía Church, Cathedral) - Overnight bus to Puno Day 11: Lake Titicaca - Night in Puno BOLIVIA Day 12: Shared taxi -> Road to La Paz, visit downtown La Paz - Night 1 in La Paz Day 13: Moon Valley and Las Animas Valley - Night 2 in La Paz Day 14: Day in La Paz - Night 3 in La Paz Day 15: Flight to Uyuni - Day 1 of Salar de Uyuni tour - Night at the edge of the Salar Day 16: Crossing the Lipez region and lagoons - Night near Laguna Colorada Day 17: Sol de Mañana CHILE Day 17 cont.: Pre-booked transfer to SPDA - 4x4 rental - Pukara de Quitor - Stargazing tour - Night 1 in SPDA Day 18: Death Valley and Moon Valley - Night 2 in SPDA Day 19: Miscanti and Miniques Lagoons, Salar de Aguas Calientes and its Piedra Roja, Tebenquiche Lagoon and Quebrada del Diablo - Night 3 in SPDA Day 20: Rainbow Valley and swim in the Puritama River - Night 4 in SPDA Day 21: Tebenquiche Lagoon - Bus to Calama - Flight to Santiago Day 22: Return Santiago - Madrid - Marseille

Day 0 - 11/07: Destination Lima

Our first flight from Marseille went smoothly to our Iberia layover in Madrid.

In Madrid, just after getting off the plane around 8 PM, and as we were walking through the terminal, we got a rude awakening!!

We saw the word "Cancelled" next to our flight number on the display boards. Thinking it must be a glitch, we checked another screen, but the system was stubborn, and the same dreaded word appeared !

So, we headed to the Iberia counter, where an agent confirmed that our Friday evening flight was canceled and rescheduled for the next morning. The reason? A breakdown and no replacement plane, even though we were in Madrid, Iberia’s home base!

To make matters worse, I remembered our super-tight schedule, planned to the minute, with no buffer day in Lima. Since I’m a bit phobic of megacities and hadn’t found anything appealing in the Peruvian capital in our guidebooks, we’d planned to leave Lima as soon as possible for Cusco, the heart of the Sacred Valley, to spend our first day there.

Bad idea, because we already knew the 4-hour buffer wouldn’t be enough, and we’d miss the domestic flight, which was, of course, non-refundable and non-changeable. So, we had to call LATAM from Madrid to find another flight for Saturday evening and negotiate a rate to recover some of our initial outlay.

After an hour on the phone with customer service, several endless holds, and three failed attempts to dictate our credit card number over the phone to a Spaniard speaking English with a thick accent, we finally managed to confirm the transaction, securing our new flight tickets for a moderate extra cost of just 150 € total.

At first, we were pretty bummed about losing a day and incurring extra fees to reschedule the domestic flight, but then, when we learned from an Iberia customer service rep that we’d receive the max compensation of 600 € per traveler, we even ended up grinning... because 3000 € in refunds for only losing the first day in Cusco? We’d sign up for that 10 times over!!

Iberia then took care of us, putting us up in a hotel where we had dinner before a short 5-hour night and an early morning departure. I took the opportunity to improvise a quick day of sightseeing in Lima, focusing on the Barranco and Miraflores districts.

Hello! 🙂

January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).

In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.

Hi everyone, thanks for your advice! I’m starting a new thread because it seems my first one about Senegal was deleted—or maybe it’s just my computer acting up again 😉. Anyway, I’ve decided to go to Benin instead. I’ll be there from January 5th to February 2nd—why count the days when you love traveling😄? I’d love all your tips on accommodations, restaurants, and itineraries. I’m basically starting from scratch to plan my trip.

Hi everyone.

I’ve been wondering: Is it still reasonable to rent a car in the U.S.?

Apparently, since early January 2025—and very quietly—the most important insurance coverage, namely the driver’s civil liability, has seen its coverage amount drop from $1 million to just $300,000. This coverage is supposed to protect us from damages we might be responsible for while driving. We can go decades without a single scrape (especially if it’s our fault), but anything can happen in a split second. A motorcycle appearing out of nowhere, a misjudgment at one of those huge intersections with staggered traffic lights, and suddenly we could be deemed at fault for the accident. We’d then have to pay out of pocket for the other party’s medical expenses. Given what hospitals charge... it can easily exceed $300,000 and turn into a nightmare in no time!!! Plus, anyone who’s driven on American roads has seen those billboards for lawyers offering their services to accident victims. So on top of the sky-high medical bill, the lawyer will demand compensation worthy of a Hollywood movie!!!! So, is it even worth getting behind the wheel in America anymore? Well... that’s just my take! And on top of that, I haven’t found any insurance company that offers such high civil liability coverage. Chapka and others do offer coverage in the millions, but motor vehicles are excluded.... So here’s the thing... Unless I’ve "missed something," I’ve come to this conclusion: Renting a car in the U.S. is like playing Russian roulette! But maybe I’m being too pessimistic? What do you think?

Four days of beach relaxation in this truly curious place let me unwind 15 years ago after trekking through Asia or Africa: swimming in clear, clean water and easing jet lag was my goal; seeing that mirage in the middle of the desert also piqued my curiosity... And then Dubai developed, and now I go there once a year for 15 days without ever getting bored!! My backpacker budget doesn’t stop me from enjoying what I love about travel: discovering cultures, architecture, and beaches with turquoise waters.

I’m sharing my favorite spots here for those who love simplicity and the thrill of being amazed! Dubai stretches over 50 km long. I stay in the historic Bur Dubai neighborhood, which is very "Indian" and separated from Deira (the more "Arab/African" district) by a creek.

You cross from one side to the other on abras, small traditional wooden boats that run all day. My hotel is 4 minutes from the Al Ghubaiba bus station, 5 minutes from the Al Ghubaiba metro, and 6 minutes from the Al Ghubaiba boat station!!! It’s easy to get around from here, and at night, it’s lively—safe to go out, with few tourists but mostly the local middle class who built (and are still building) Dubai. It’s simple and very international.

- **Transport:** ...**Getting there:** I fly with Emirates from Paris. Taking the 9:30 PM flight, I sleep on the plane, land at 6:35 AM, exchange 200 euros once I’ve picked up my luggage, change in the restroom, grab a taxi to the hotel, drop off my suitcase, and head straight to the beach! ...**On the ground:** I buy a silver NOL card, which works for buses, metro, and boats. I top it up as needed—it’s valid for 2 years. ...**Taxis:** They have reliable meters. Pink ones are driven by women. Airport-to-hotel fare: 12 €. You’ll find them everywhere, and they don’t complain about short trips. Between 3 PM and 4 PM, it’s trickier because of shift changes.

- **Best times to visit:** For me, it’s April-May and October-November: not too hot for walking but warm enough to swim! Watch out for air conditioning—your worst enemy. It’s everywhere, even at bus stops. Bring a big scarf or sarong to cover your throat and head—going from 32°C to 16°C when you enter a mall, bus, or taxi is pretty harsh!

- **Hotel:** I stay at the Grand Astoria (Fahidi Street) because the value for price and location is great. It’s very clean, and I skip breakfast because near the bus station, there’s a big Carrefour hypermarket where I buy breakfast supplies, water, camel milk, and picnic snacks. There are two nightclubs downstairs—bring earplugs if you want to sleep before 2 AM. Wi-Fi is spotty; you have to change the password every two days. The staff is lovely. Rooms have a TV (4 Indian channels + BBC), a kettle with tea/coffee sachets, and a mini-fridge you fill yourself.

- **Bur Dubai: "My neighborhood"** In the morning, you can see kids in uniforms waiting for the school bus with their parents—second-generation migrants who’ve settled here. They speak English, Arabic, and their mother tongue, have great education, and are in high demand (I see job ads in the local newspapers in the hotel lobby). From the U.S. to the Middle East, Singapore to South Africa, they have bright futures. In the evenings, families stroll along the creek, and it’s common for bench neighbors to ask where you’re from. The whole world crosses paths here. Even with basic English, it’s friendly and warm—the "take care" as people go their separate ways is a nice touch.

Bur Dubai has plenty to explore if you don’t feel like going far: along the creek, there’s a cluster of reconstructed houses forming the Al Shindagha Museum. One ticket lets you visit all the houses, each with a theme tied to the history of the seven emirates (Dubai is one). It takes a full day, but if you stop for lunch, there are tons of restaurants for all budgets, some right by the water.

Walking in the opposite direction, you reach Al Seef, a reconstruction of old Dubai as a small pearl-fishing port. The architecture is lovely, with souvenir shops. My favorite is the Iranian grocery store, where you’ll find camel milk chocolate, black lemon, and sweets with rose, pistachio, and candied apricot. It’s peaceful to walk around here, even as a solo woman. There are free restrooms everywhere, wooden or stone benches, and a nice breeze in the evening. Plenty of waterfront restaurants or places to grab a drink, plus a few towers across the way—nothing spectacular, but they’re prettily lit. There’s a souk with souvenir shops for those who like that!

- **Restaurants:** Bur Dubai has restaurants representing regions of India and the Indian subcontinent. My favorites: Across from the hotel, Paklyari—a Pakistani spot with excellent mutton biryani for 5 €. At Al Seef, Nablus has a great setting by the water. Across in Deira, the Italian restaurant on the 18th floor of the Rotana—go half an hour before sunset for an amazing view of the creek and skyline. The truffle pizza is 24 €. You can take a taxi from Bur, and after dinner, get dropped off at Al Seef to walk back along the creek. For a great thali, Kathhiyawadi is a 10-minute walk from Burjuman metro. My latest discovery: Bordomavi (near the Rashid Al Hadees Masjid 1 bus stop). One of the servers is Algerian and speaks French. You can swim at the small beach with showers/toilets, then have lunch at the restaurant (57 € for two, with starter, main, dessert, and drinks). The setting is peaceful, in a little fishing port with a cool photo op—traditional boats with the modern skyline in the background!

- **Sunset drinks:** The terrace at Concorde Creek View (Bur Dubai) has a creek view, and Canopy by Hilton (Al Seef) overlooks the creek and skyline. You can get a day pass for the pool, including meals and drinks.

- **Lassi:** Near the hotel, SreeRaj Lassi Bar has great ice cream and lassi. *Tip: Everything is takeout-friendly, including leftovers—great for a picnic the next day.

- **Market:** Don’t miss the Waterfront Market—a huge hall where locals buy fish, meat, fruits, and vegetables from all over the world. I love buying fish, shrimp, and cuttlefish, then having it prepared at Yahya’s waterfront restaurant (grilled, in sauce, fried, etc.) with salad, hummus, tabbouleh, and rice. It’s on the way between "my" beach and the hotel, so I stop by easily. I stock up on fruit, and at the Lulu supermarket upstairs, I grab yogurt, water, etc. No need to carry everything—a taxi (available at the main exit) will drop me right at the hotel!

- **Beach:** My favorite: Al Mamzar Park (15-minute taxi ride, 9 €). It has four lifeguarded beaches with showers and restrooms. Opens at 8 AM, but note: Mondays and Wednesdays are for women and young children only! Entry is 1.50 €. On Beach #2, you can rent sun loungers and umbrellas. Beach #3 (the prettiest) has stone tables with benches under big umbrellas—free! I arrive at 8 AM, set up, and walk for an hour along the water, spotting starfish, colorful fish, birds, and occasionally small jellyfish. From bikinis to burkinis, everyone swims as they like! Dubai is judgment-free—no side-eye, just smiles and greetings. I love seeing joyful, full-figured women on women-only days, playing darbuka and singing. Indian women do yoga (even headstands!), Chinese women practice tai chi... I read a lot and swim far out to the buoy limits. Lifeguards keep watch. It’s safe on land too. Once, a 4x4 driver gave me a dirty look for "serving whisky" to my mom from a plastic bottle—until I made him smell it. It was mint tea! Embarrassed, he immediately called his brother, a gym teacher in Poitiers, to apologize in French! People in Dubai are smiley, polite, and very respectful of elders. On weekends, the park is packed with groups and families barbecuing—joyful chaos in every language!

By 1:30 PM, depending on my mood, I’ll get dropped off at the Waterfront Market for fish or a thali restaurant. Sometimes I take the bus—it stops near the abras on the Deira side. Just cross by boat, then it’s a 3-minute walk to the hotel. Takes 45 minutes (vs. 15 by taxi).

For a treat, try Kite Beach (Abu Manara Masjid bus stop). The SoleMio section offers comfy sun loungers, fluffy towels, and umbrellas for 80 € for two in the front row. Go early—you’ll feel like you have the place to yourself, with the Burj Al Arab in the background. It gets busy on weekends.

From there, you can take a taxi to Dubai Mall (not far) to check out the dancing fountains at sunset, for example.

You can also buy day passes at some hotels with sun loungers, towels, pool access, and lunch credit. I tried the Ritz-Carlton—decent (170 € for two, including meals). Lunch was fine, and the view of the lit-up towers at sunset, with the giant wheel, was stunning. I took the metro back in the evening.

There are plenty of free beaches too, like La Mer—worth seeing more for the decor than the beach itself.

- **Even though my main "sightseeing" involves walking around with my head up, admiring the towers in DIFC (amazing), visiting the stunning Mohammed bin Rashid Library (near Creek metro), wandering the souks (including Little India in Bur and the Iranian mosque), or the spice souks in Deira (go early when it’s quiet),** A day trip to Abu Dhabi is worth it. Take the Bur Dubai-Abu Dhabi bus (pay with your NOL card). If you leave early, you’ll see the sunrise over the desert. At the station, buy a bus ticket to the Louvre, cross the footbridge over the highway, and wait for the bus. After the museum, take a taxi to the Grand Mosque, then another taxi back to the bus station. A full but doable day—no need to stay overnight!

In the evening, I love taking the metro (mostly above ground) and passing between the towering, lit-up skyscrapers—it feels like a sci-fi movie. Just missing flying taxis (they’re in the works!)

Sharjah, the closest emirate, has a fantastic Orientalist museum. From Bur Dubai’s maritime station, boats go to Sharjah in 30 minutes, near the aquarium and maritime museum.

- **Shopping:** I buy Indian chai tea spices, incense, camel milk chocolate, Iranian sweets, and fabric from Indian shops selling saris and fabric by the meter. I have a tailor make shirts, tunics, etc. Some shops sell buttons and trimmings to jazz things up.

- **Malls:** To attract customers, mall owners come up with wild ideas: a ski slope at Dubai Mall (worth seeing once), pretty wooden souks at Madinat, and a giant aquarium at Dubai Mall. At sunset, you can watch the dancing fountains to popular global tunes at the foot of the world’s tallest tower. At its base, there’s an excellent Iraqi restaurant, Samad Al Iraki, where the tea server is Tunisian and speaks French! The Ibn Battuta Mall is unique—you can go there straight from Abu Dhabi by bus, for example. Malls have plenty of dining options and are a place to (finally) see locals... though they’re not that interesting. Malls are served by the metro, while buses run along the coast. In Burjuman Mall, there’s a cybercafé on the ground floor where you can print.

A few helpful sites: Visit Dubai - Official Tourism Site RTA (Roads and Transport Authority) - RTA Services

"But what do *you* do in Dubai?" my friends ask, surprised... Yes, I love traveling to countries where I ride on bumpy roads in buses that break down, sleep in places with mosquitoes and cockroaches, and swelter in heat and humidity. But even far from that kind of travel, Dubai has an exotic charm. There’s something for every taste and budget—once you get past the flight ticket (around 680 €, probably cheaper with a layover). Dubai is about relaxing, swimming, being amazed, chatting, and tasting... A safe, clean vacation with no rudeness, and as a woman, it’s a relief to let your guard down. You come back refreshed and at peace!

Hope my experience helps... Next trip: March 2026, with plans to visit the Guggenheim in Abu Dhabi and whatever other curiosities pop up like magic...

Feel free to add to my experience with your own! Happy travels, Laurence

Hey fellow travelers!

This isn’t meant to be a full-on travel journal—just a little springtime dip into the Moroccan coast (and maybe a bit more if we click).

For our third trip to this country, we set off for 8 days in early June 2025, *sure* we’d be greeted by non-stop sunshine...



...and well, that didn’t happen! The gray stuck around for a day, then two, then three (while back home in the Landes, we had gorgeous sunshine 🤦‍♂️😂).

Now, unlike us, the Morocco experts here probably already know this, but apparently, it’s pretty common—especially in spring—when the warm air from inland meets the cool ocean breeze. Locals even have to warm up with hot water bottles, can you believe it? 😄!



And of course, it had to happen now, since our plan is to follow the coast from Essaouira to Mirleft!!

Oh well, we’ll see how it goes—but luckily, this first stunning sunset made up for the weather 🌅.



See you soon to anyone who’s up for it! 😊

February 9th is a pivotal day during my trip to Thailand. Up until this date, my focus had been on cities, temples, and other urban landmarks. Starting February 10th, I’ll finally leave the city behind for the outskirts—one town, one life, farther from tourism, more real, more authentic... Then comes the bucolic surroundings of Chiang Mai, nature, the countryside, the mountains.

This morning, I head to visit the ethnographic museum. I’d been told about another one, but it’s permanently closed. I wonder if it’s the same one that might have changed its name and location.

I thoroughly enjoy visiting this museum. At first, I’m a bit annoyed because the place is packed with noisy school groups blocking the display cases without even showing the slightest interest. But soon, their chaperones manage to lead them into another room, giving me some peace. They maintain this distance throughout the tour, allowing me to explore the museum in complete tranquility. I really appreciate their tact.

I’m amazed by the absolutely stunning fabric displays and the countless everyday objects, especially the very old pottery. There’s so much beautiful basketry and intricately carved wood. The statues are also incredible... After seeing all of them, I no longer feel like buying any from the shops.

On my way back, not far from my hotel, I discover a rather unique place that only serves one drink, which they’ve made their specialty: egg coffee! A pretty surprising novelty. I have to try it.



At the bottom of the cup, they pour a layer of milk, topped with a layer of liquid coffee, followed by a layer of egg yolk, and finally a top layer that turns out to be a mix of coffee and cocoa powder. It’s a cold drink that, in the end, doesn’t have much flavor, and the price is pretty steep for such a small cup. You’re paying for the exclusivity!

Later in the day, I venture once again into small alleys, something I love doing when exploring a new city—no specific goal, just wandering east of the city, outside the walls.



I encounter very few tourists there and discover unsuspected little shops overflowing with lovely items, much cheaper than what you find in the heart of the tourist district. Then I wander through the floors of Warorot Market. I discover another kind of temple there: the temple of good deals. I love finding clothes that are really original for locals, not the flood of shirts and pants that tourists love but no Thai would ever buy, which invade the shops in the "Historic Square." I stop in my tracks in front of a stall with beautiful shirts featuring stunning geometric patterns in elegant color combinations and very short sleeves. Hmm, these would be perfect for showing off my biceps, one of which is adorned with the magnificent Ganesh tattoo I got last year in Bali. "When you’ve got nice things, you’ve got to show them off!" he said. 😜🙏💪 I pick out two for 380 baht and negotiate them down to 300. But the seller won’t go any lower. I understand I’ve reached the limit of her commercial possibilities. Just as I’m leaving the shop, happy with my purchase, my ever-helpful inner voice, Petite Voix, suggests: - You didn’t try them on because you were too lazy to take off the one you’re wearing and also because of the sweat, but you could just put one on over the one you’re wearing. It’s light enough that it won’t bother you.

I go back to the two sellers, who burst out laughing when I ask to try them on. - Oh no, it’s way too small for you! It’s a women’s shirt! - But they don’t look particularly feminine in style! And I chose XXL... I put the shirt on, and of course, it won’t close. Then I notice the buttons are on the wrong side. That’s why the sleeves seemed so short!!! They put the shirts back on the rack and refund me without any fuss, commenting amid total hilarity: - Well, thank goodness you tried it on just as you were leaving the shop!

Since I don’t want to walk too much before tomorrow’s first Big Outing with the driver, I end my stroll with a visit to two very pretty temples recommended by Joël.



I’d rather not post more temple photos. But these ones smell like village and countryside...







I’ve never seen anything like Wat Ket Karam, so extravagant...





And I end my day with two other lesser-known temples: Wat Noung Kham, simple and finally free of gold and glitter,



and Wat Dap Phai, where an intimate ceremony is taking place at the end of the day.

Hi there,

I’m planning my first trip to Asia next summer with my partner and our daughter, who’ll be 3 and a half at the time, for 4 weeks (maybe 5).

I’ve heard that the timing is better for visiting Indonesia, but I’m hesitant because Thailand seems more accessible, and I’m worried that traveling to Indonesia during high season might be less enjoyable and a lot more expensive due to the number of tourists. We love cultural sites as much as natural ones, and we’re big foodies. We’re not necessarily looking for luxury and tend to take our time, travel by public transport, and look for accommodations with a good value for money—though we do occasionally splurge on a high-end restaurant.

I’m also wondering when and where to buy flight tickets and how comfortable the journey will be (especially for our daughter) if we fly with Thai Airways or Garuda.

Thanks in advance for sharing your thoughts and tips!

Damien

Hi there, I’m right in the middle of planning a trip to the American West—23 days from 07/30 to 08/23. Departure from Orly to Los Angeles with a layover in San Francisco, and return from Los Angeles to Orly. Day 1: Orly - San Francisco (1 night) Day 2 & 3: Los Angeles (2 nights) Day 4, 5 & 6: San Francisco (3 nights) Day 7: Lake Tahoe (1 night) Day 8 & 9: Portland (2 nights) Day 10, 11 & 12: Seattle (3 nights) Day 13 & 14: Yellowstone (2 nights) Day 15 & 16: Salt Lake City (2 nights) Day 17 & 18: Las Vegas (2 nights) Day 19 & 20: Grand Canyon (2 nights) Day 21 & 22: Los Angeles (2 nights) Day 23: Return flight (1 night in the air)

The flight’s already booked: 2250 € for 3 people. Car’s reserved—just finalized the last booking today: a Rav4 for 23 days from Sixt in Santa Monica, 715 € (all insurance included). Hotels are booked with free cancellation since I keep finding better options, and the itinerary isn’t 100% set yet.

Three of our grandchildren came to spend the last weekend of the holidays at our house. With her driver’s license just in hand, the oldest took her sister and a cousin along. I was talking about VoyageForum, and the conversation turned to AI, which finds writing travel journals a breeze—churning out amazing ads for this or that country and even nudging tourists to visit one place over another.

Jules: "It’s crazy, you can plan and organize everything, then just add your photos and the AI’s text, and boom—you’ve got something great." Héloïse: "What a cheat for yourself and for others." (She’s so wise!) Gaïané: "Ugh, no more surprises. It even picks the restaurants—so lame."

I had this idea to stay on the theme of travel journals:

I found an excerpt from a book (I’ll let you guess the title and author—of course, the kids figured it out in two seconds with their phones), then I wrote my own version, and finally, the AI generated its own using a few keywords.

Here they are:

"We walked at dusk through the thick, dark forest. Sometimes, a clearing would reveal a dreamlike landscape. A magical world, far from humans. A world of frozen waterfalls, stiff fir trees, and sharp peaks slicing through the blinding whiteness of the air.

We gazed, dazzled, at the spectacle, imagining we’d left the human world behind and joined that of the spirits."

"For days, we walked through the half-darkness of dense, untouched forests, then suddenly, a clearing would unveil landscapes you only see in dreams. Sharp peaks piercing the sky, icy torrents, giant waterfalls—an entire fantastical world, blindingly white, rising above the dark line traced by the giant fir trees. We stared at this extraordinary sight, speechless, awestruck, ready to believe we’d reached the limits of the human world and stood at the threshold of the spirits’ realm."

"We walked through the mountain, wild and unyielding, its sharp peaks tearing the sky like honed blades. Giant waterfalls roared and foamed, as if the earth’s hidden forces were pouring out. Higher still, the blinding whiteness belonged to the world of spirits—capricious beings whispering to lost travelers. Faced with this silent vastness, we felt tiny, uninvited guests meditating on the invisible that dwells in these forbidden peaks."

And, amazingly, they unanimously agreed that the author’s excerpt was a thousand times more poetic. Héloïse, my history buff, said: "Nothing replaces the real travel experience." Jules said: "Yeah, but it does the job. Even if the excerpt is cool." And our oldest added: "It makes you want to go there—not at all like the other two versions. Sorry, Mamido."

And then, miracle—Jules asks: "Do you have the book? Can I borrow it?"

I’m so relieved—young people aren’t completely devoured by technology yet. And the forum will keep its charm and usefulness for a long time. Phew!

You agree, right?

Friday, November 4 My flight Barcelona - Abu Dhabi - Delhi went smoothly, it’s on time, and here I am back in India after 3 long years. As I step off the plane, we head toward customs. It’s 3 AM, I’m tired but happy. The huge customs hall is below ground level and buzzing with people who’ve just arrived. In the end, they’re well organized—Indians to the left, foreigners to the right, and all along the hall, the customs officers’ posts, who remain very zen despite the crowd. It took me less than 2 hours to get out of the airport, which was pretty quick. For this return trip, I got in touch with a driver from the "Lovers of India" group who was supposed to take me from the airport to Udaipur, passing through non-touristy villages like I love. This French-speaking driver had convinced me to travel by car, which was supposed to make moving from village to village easier. Two or three days before departure, I receive a message from the driver saying he was sick with a cold and sending another driver, his very kind brother who knows Rajasthan well but doesn’t speak French. I’m a bit disappointed by this message and doubtful about the driver’s sincerity, but I don’t have time to find another driver, so I stick to my plans, though I’m not at ease. At the exit, the driver hasn’t arrived, and I wait half an hour before seeing him show up with a big smile, "Namaste." We don’t waste time and head to the car, which is clean and new. We get to know each other in the car and hit the road toward Alwar. Along the way, we stop for lunch and to taste my first masala chai, which wakes up my taste buds.



I doze off during the drive, and we arrive at the Atlantic Hotel in Alwar at 10:30 AM. My room is on the ground floor, and I settle in quickly. The Wi-Fi isn’t working, but the staff do everything they can to fix it. At noon, Gajender, the driver, suggests visiting the Qila Fort, which is on the heights of Alwar. The fort is closed for restoration, but safari tours are offered—jeep, guide, driver, and visit for 1600 Rs.



We follow the great wall, which is impressive—the second largest in India and the third in the world.



We spot peacocks and monkeys.





The guide shows me an old stepwell lost in nature. It’s always my thing to check out these baoris, which can be stunning, but this one isn’t anything special. We arrive at the palace overlooking the city.



We walk around the palace, and I discover another stepwell that’s not worth lingering over.

The tour is over, and I had a great time despite the fatigue. We head back down to Alwar, near the City Palace, which has been turned into administrative offices. Gaju (the driver’s nickname) finds a parking spot near a dhaba where we have lunch (paneer masala, chapatis, chai)—it’s delicious. With my energy restored, we head to the palace. On the top floor is a museum that I visit.



At the exit of the museum, we have to go back down and walk around the palace to get to the Moosi Maharani Chhatri. I’ve been here once before and really liked it, and the place is still the same—calm and relaxing.



"This monument is the most artistic in Alwar and also the most royal, filled with fascinating history. Maharaja Vinay Singh of Alwar built this two-story cenotaph in 1815 in memory of his father, Maharaja Bakhtawar Singh. It’s also known as Moosi Maharani ki Chhatri, named after the king’s mistress, who performed sati upon his death. After the sati, she was accepted as the king’s wife. It’s an elegant monument, shaped like a flower and built with a mix of brown sandstone and white marble. The first floor is made of sandstone, while the upper floor and the chhatris (cenotaphs) are in white marble. Its sculpted pavilion has dome-shaped arches with intricate lace-like and exquisite floral patterns. There are complex motifs that shine brightly in the sunlight. The colorful circular ceiling is an important part of Moosi Maharani Ki Chhatri and is adorned with faded gold-leaf paintings of mythological figures and scenes. The footprints of Maharaja and Moosi Rani are engraved in marble inside the cenotaph, and locals pay their respects to them."



Near the chhatri, there’s a large water reservoir with a magnificent view. The place is peaceful and relaxing, and I stay here for a while, contemplating and daydreaming before heading back to the hotel for some well-deserved rest. The Wi-Fi is working now. I’m the only foreign guest, and since my room is near the entrance, I’ll be well taken care of throughout my stay.

This travel journal is the second part of the trip whose first part you can find here: 1st part...

Sunday, August 7: the day we discover a magical place... Edmaier's Secret...

We got up at 8:00 AM, had breakfast on the terrace of our tiny house, and then set off again toward yesterday’s trail. This time, we stopped after 4.5 miles on House Rock Valley Road at the Buckskin Gulch Trail parking lot. We weren’t interested in that trail today—the slot canyon is muddy anyway after the recent storms...

Instead, we explored a lesser-known area that became our playground. And what a playground it was, folks—an out-of-this-world spot, THE highlight of our trip!!! 😏

Just imagine being in the middle of these landscapes, and the cherry on top... no one else around!!!!! Well, we did meet a couple who were coming back—it was 9:30 AM 😮. Did they camp there? Did they turn back? 🙁

After paying the entry permit online, we set off with plenty of water (6L for the four of us) plus a gallon we hid along the way for the return trip. 😉 After a one-hour approach hike along a wash, we reached the sea of sand.



We had to cross it to reach our goal: a strip about 2 km long and 1 km wide that you can explore freely since there’s no marked trail... We entered a few GPS points into our Garmin Etrex, and off we went!!! 😎 It was... magical, enchanting, a true love-at-first-sight moment!



Brain Rock, waves, fine and brittle rock, colors—it goes up, it goes down.







Just thinking about it gives me chills... I remember sitting still for two minutes, taking in these wonders with such emotion that I teared up...

I’ll admit, the hook is intentionally ambiguous 😉 but I really do want to talk about travel, inspired by a side discussion and a recent experience.

The topic is obviously about independent travel, in a closed group—not those hordes of tourists who step off a plane just to flop onto a beach (no judgment, I do it too… rarely).

Have you tried traveling with others? How did it feel? Never again? Always? Do you travel solo by choice (not due to constraints)? Why?

Your turn! !

Hi there, In spring 2023, I headed to Romania by motorcycle. I’ve been going there for over 20 years—by car, bike, and plane—and I’ve really fallen for this country. I feel so at home there. The big difference this time? I had all the time in the world, no constraints at all.

I left the Paris region (IDF) and headed for the Sundgau, avoiding the motorways. I know a little hotel tucked away in the countryside there. The next day, I followed the Swiss border on a small road along the Lucelle River, which acts as the frontier. Around a bend, you cross to the other side and then back into France—kind of fun.



I crossed Switzerland via the motorway—I know the route well, so no sightseeing. I arrived in Austria, which I also know pretty well, and took the Arlberg Pass. It was deserted, everything was closed, and there was still snow.



The weather wasn’t great—it was raining—so I stopped for the night at a remote inn. Perfect for drying off! I set off in the rain the next morning and kept going. Gradually, the rain stopped. I took a detour through the Trentino-Alto Adige region and the Sella Pass. Up there, it was rain, snow, and a bit of black ice in a tunnel (wind + rain + sub-zero temps = skating rink).



I arrived in Burgenland to see the famous giant glass-and-metal grape cluster, the largest in Europe. The region is hilly, full of tiny roads, and covered in vineyards.



Burgenland



Then into Slovenia.



I stopped for the night at a winegrower’s B&B perched on a ridge straddling the Croatian border. The welcome was fantastic—I spent the evening with the owners and their friends who arrived later. The white wine was amazing! The next day, I hit the road again.



I headed for Vukovar, on the Danube, a symbol of resistance during the Balkan War. I found a really comfortable B&B by the river and stayed for two nights to explore. What a strange monument!



I visited the water tower, which you can go inside—it’s riddled with bullet holes. There’s an exhibition inside. I also checked out a museum of equipment used during the Balkan War. Since it’s in a barracks, it’s guarded. I asked if I could bring my motorcycle in, and a Croatian officer came to meet me and gave me permission, along with a sticker to put on the bike. I met some fellow bikers from Marseille riding beautiful vintage bikes.



I left Vukovar following the Danube toward Serbia. The rain caught up with me. The roads were busy, with construction causing mud everywhere and crazy truck drivers. At one point, I cut through the construction zone! I stopped for coffee in a village—it had a *Deliverance* vibe. Total silence when I walked in, and the owner gave me a suspicious look. Finally, the Romanian border... and the sun came out! The Romanian customs officer asked if I had anything to declare. "Yes—just happy to be back in Romania!" I stopped for the night at a *cabana* (mountain hut) lost in the forest. Chaos ensued—a tourist! So they rushed to get supplies, quench my thirst, give me a room, and then the owner took charge: țuică (plum brandy), omelette, beers... Everyone bent over backwards to make me happy.

I love these Romanian roads!







I passed through Băile Herculane, which isn’t as beautiful as it once was—everything’s run-down. What are they waiting for to restore this *Mittel Europa*-style spa town that’s still active?

I stopped at the birthplace of Constantin Brâncuși.



Keep your eyes peeled on the roads!



Via the Jiu Valley, I arrived in Craiova to visit my in-laws. A few days of laughs and outings. I picked up my wife at the airport.

My favorite brand



We took a trip to Horezu, a village famous for its beautiful ceramics.





After those few days together, I dropped my wife off at the airport, and the next day, I set off for Dobrogea, a region split in two after the war with Bulgaria. The road was dull—flat as far as the eye could see—but the sun was out. I followed a military convoy of about fifty vehicles, with orders not to overtake. I stopped by the roadside for some homemade *ciorbă* (sour soup). That evening, I stopped in Călărași. The next day, I crossed the Danube by ferry. There are two ferries—one goes to Bulgaria, the other stays in Romania.



A priest on board came over to bless the motorcycle, the rider, and the ferry. I arrived on the other side with some traffic. Dobrogea



It’s like that all the way to the Bulgarian border—no restaurants, hotels, or gas stations, just old collective farms. And it’s the same in Bulgaria! I stopped at Adamclisi, site of a major battle in Moesia (now Dobrogea) in 101–102 BC, one of Trajan’s most important Dacian Wars.



An oasis in the agricultural steppe.



I arrived at the Bulgarian border.



A customs officer—built like a weightlifter, shaved head, thick neck, and as square as a truck—saw me take this photo and came over to ask me to delete it. I did... but I didn’t empty the trash! The weather turned stormy. I arrived in Balchik, a resort town where the last queen of Romania, Maria, used to vacation.

The Black Sea and the Bulgarian coast



The weather wasn’t great, so I headed back to Romania to follow the coastline. Constanța and its casino



Then came the seaside resorts—just as ugly as each other: Neptun, Mangalia, Eforie Nord, Eforie Sud. I stopped at a B&B near the Danube Delta, in some random village. The welcome was nice. The next day, I headed for Dunavățu de Jos, the last stretch of tarmac in Romania. After that, it’s the Danube Delta. The area is flat and sandy, with typical houses featuring reed roofs.



Now, I’m following the Ukrainian border. I passed the last active quarantine station in Europe. I came across a funeral procession—it’s customary to honk as you pass. If you’re on foot, you cross yourself. When I arrived in Galați, it was raining. I boarded the ferry in a downpour. On board, we were packed in like sardines. As soon as the ramp hit land, the drivers rushed out, revving their engines and honking. I let them go and exited calmly. I continued toward the Székely Land. These are Hungarians who, back in the day, were border guards for the king. They’ve kept their own script (it looks like runes), their flag, and their independence streak. For them, Romania is Hungarian, despite the Treaty of Sèvres in 1920. There are still clashes between Romanians and Székely Hungarians now and then. Since I speak a bit of Romanian, I used it—logical, since it’s the language there—and it put everyone in a good mood! Székely flag



I passed through Bicaz Chei, arriving via one of my favorite kinds of roads. During a break, a bear came to check me out from a distance.



Bicaz Chei



I arrived at the "Heart of Jesus" monument, built by public subscription to thank God for sparing the village from severe flooding.



Now, I’m heading west—next stop, Transylvania, with the in-laws. On the road



Roma house



Bozorka—a Hungarian specialty... 450 grams of meat!

I made it back to France without any issues, already thinking about my next trip. Actually, I just got back from one!

This adventure began during Covid... Yep, Covid turned a lot of things upside down, but most of all, it kept us cooped up for a few months and stopped us from traveling for a while—even longer for a die-hard fan of the American West like me.

While borders were closed, I started imagining what an ideal itinerary might look like—one that would string together all the Southwest must-sees in just two weeks, during the best time of year: September and October. When the U.S. announced in September 2021 that borders would reopen in the coming weeks, I regained hope and began scouting flight tickets for a departure in September 2022.

But here’s the thing: tackling solo hikes, each one tougher than the last, right in the heart of the Wilderness, could be a risky—even reckless—endeavor for a father of three. After a quick chat with some virtual friends who are just as passionate about the Southwest as I am, with good physical condition and nearly the same list of must-visit spots, Franck and his brother Sullivan were in! 🙂

In November, we snagged flight tickets from Nice to San Francisco for the modest sum of 400 €, and a few days later, I booked a Toyota Tacoma pickup for 840 € !

It’s not cheap for just 15 days, and a pickup isn’t exactly ideal for luggage, but the prices for full-size 4x4s have become totally outrageous! Due to border closures, rental companies had to offload a lot of these big 4x4s, which tourists love. Then, supply and demand did the rest !

Franck and I spent the winter and spring trying to cram the equivalent of three weeks of hikes into two. But even with physical limits, we had to stay reasonable! Three to four months before departure, we entered the lotteries for different must-see spots: The Subway, Coyote Buttes North (home to the famous Wave), and Coyote Buttes South (CBS).

The Wave is the holy grail for any Southwest enthusiast. Since 2015, we’ve tried our luck with the online and on-site lotteries about ten times, but the spots are unfortunately limited: just 20 per day. A glimmer of hope, though—since early 2022, that number has increased to 64 people allowed per day, with 48 spots awarded via the online lottery.

After all three of us tried our luck for The Wave, on June 1st at exactly 5 PM, I got an email that started with, "Congratulations! You were successful in the Coyote Buttes North (The Wave) September 2022 Permit Lottery at Coyote Buttes North (The Wave)...". At 5:01 PM, I called Franck, whose dream it’s been for over 20 years—ever since the first photos were published in a travel magazine! He didn’t believe me when I told him, and I had to forward the email for him to finally accept the unbelievable: we were going to The Wave and all the incredible spots scattered across the protected area of Coyote Buttes North.

I’ve already been to Coyote Buttes South twice, but there are areas I couldn’t explore in the middle of summer because they were too remote. So, I had no trouble letting my buddies convince me to go back for a third time. Plus, given how hard it is to access, we had no trouble securing a permit online as long as we logged in at exactly 8 PM on the dot!

For The Subway, all three of us struck out. No big deal—we won at CBN and CBS!

Among the sites to visit, there are two that I’m particularly attached to because I know my chances of wanting to see them again are slim. The first is Angel Arch, one of the most legendary arches in the Southwest, due to its remoteness from any trace of civilization. To get there, the recommended hike is Upper Salt Creek, and you’re looking at a 50 km round-trip in an area with no water (in September) and populated by bears.

The second site is the Hopi Salt Trail, in Navajo land, which, after a very tough hike, lets you marvel at the turquoise-blue waters of the Little Colorado before it meets the Colorado River. The Hopi Salt Trail is, like The Wave, the holy grail for any Southwest enthusiast, and the windows of opportunity to see the water in that magical color are very short each year. For this, you have to monitor the Little Colorado’s gauges downstream from Cameron: if the level stays at its lowest for 10 consecutive days—meaning no rain—you can hope for turquoise water. The ideal period rarely exceeds 30 days a year, and it’s usually in June that all the stars align.

But unfortunately, one month before departure, while the flow rate at Cameron looked promising, several storms in September dashed our hopes of doing the Hopi Salt Trail, even at the end of the road trip.

We still had two consolation prizes, though:

After a last-minute cancellation, while keeping an eye out for available spots for The Subway, it turned out that three spots opened up exactly on the day we’d planned to go—so we rushed to grab them!! Regarding the 4x4 rental, the prices for full-size models dropped by several hundred dollars, and we ended up finding a Chevrolet Tahoe for less than $1000. A steal and a serious boost in comfort, so we could store all our gear and food without worry!

Here’s the initial plan in a perfect world: D1 The White Domes - Camping D2 Sunrise at The White Domes - The Subway D3 Coyote Buttes North D4 Coyote Buttes South - White Pocket D5 Wahweap Hoodoos - Sidestep Canyon - Colourful Canyon - White Rocks - Sunset at Yellow Rock D6 Broken Bow Arch - Reflection Canyon D7 Coyote Gulch D8 The Volcano (or The Oasis - Zebra Slot Canyon if the weather’s good) - North Caineville Mesa D9 The Needles: Squaw Canyon - Lost Canyon combo - Druid Arch - Chesler Park D10 Upper Salt Creek Day 1 - Camping D11 Upper Salt Creek Day 2 D12 Hopi-Navajo Territory: Ha Ho No Geh Canyon, Coal Mine Canyon, Bends of the Little Colorado D13 Grand Canyon: South Kaibab Trail and Bright Angel Trail D14 Upper East Zion: East Temple Loop, Jughandle Arch, Center of the Universe, and Checkerboard Mesa Summit And several backup options in case of bad weather, including Spencer Trail, West Cove, and Buffington Pockets.

Enough talking—time for action!

October 7, 2023, is a sunny day in Milan. Since morning, in this light, I’m WhatsApping with Afrooz in Tehran, and I decide to call her. A lively, joyful conversation—French with that Farsi accent becomes a wonderful language. Suddenly, everything feels possible. Isfahan, Shiraz, Damavand, Yazd, Yazd, Yazd—a delicious word savored endlessly—become within reach. Iran, so longed for, is finally here. Pure joy, absolute enthusiasm. Six months to plan and relish a trip before living it.

Then I open *Le Monde*.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Frozen. Empty. No. We decide to wait, not to give up right away, pretending to believe—just a little, just to keep from collapsing—that with this wretched human race, the worst isn’t necessarily certain. It is.

So... meh, Madeira? The Azores? Uzbekistan (a pale substitute)? New Zealand? Greece. Again, always. Nestling into the only European promise we’ve been given. Indulging in illusions, for the pleasure of it.

So, train from Milan to Ancona (9 AM–12 PM), a typically Marchigiano lunch (Italy is paradise for food lovers), a stroll through the city, then at 4 PM boarding the *Olympic Champion*. Arrival in Patras the next afternoon, car rental, and off to Lepanto—Nafpaktos today—to reminisce about glorious victories and pay tribute to Cervantes, who lost a hand there before writing.

That’s the plan, anyway. The train is unusually on time. The ferry, replaced in the meantime by the *Hellenic Spirit* (why not? Even if it’s less suited to the season), is 3 hours late, then 4, no 5, then finally 6—oh wait, 7. And on top of that, it’s pouring rain in Ancona, and the port waiting room closes at 6 PM. Great...

At 11 PM, the ferry’s lights emerge in the pitch-black night. We jostle through the downpour, board, and sleep well in a cozy cabin with the white noise of the engines. Then:

23 hours of rest. Of forgetting.

Bonjour à toutes et à tous! J'aimerais bien avoir votre opinion sur la façon dont les questions du genre et de l'orientation sexuelle sont perçues dans les différentes régions du monde que vous avez visitées. En Occident, ces questions sont débattues et les différences de mieux en mieux acceptées, même s'il y a encore beaucoup de chemin à faire. Mais comment ça se passe ailleurs ? En Afrique par exemple, ou en Asie ? Si je pose ma question sur ce forum c'est parce que j'aimerais avoir des avis de première main. Par exemple, qui d'entre vous a parlé à des hijras (Inde) ou à des Katoï (Thaïlande) de leurs conditions de vie? Savez-vous comment elles/ils sont vu.e.s par leurs compatriotes? Sont-elles/ils admis.e.s ou rejeté.e.s? Une autre de mes questions tourne autour des touristes occidentales/aux LGBT. Y a-t-il des pays ou des régions où on peut en toute tranquillité afficher ses préférences? Par exemple, est-ce que deux lesbiennes peuvent marcher main dans la main dans le centre de Marrakech ou est-ce qu'il y a des bars LGBT en Chine? Si vous êtes vous-même concerné.e.s par ces questions, pouvez-vous raconter des anecdotes et bien entendu donner des conseils sur où aller et où ne pas aller? Merci d'avance 😎

PS:Pourquoi n'a-t-on le choix qu'entre deux sexes dans le formulaire d'inscription du site ?

Le voyage pourquoi ? Chacun sa définition en fonction de ses envies et de ses aspirations. Le plaisir, le bonheur de la découverte, aller regarder les grandes merveilles du monde, dont on nous dit qu’il faut les avoir vues dans sa vie au moins une fois, un peu à la manière de la Rolex de Séguéla. Certes, au cours d’une interview plusieurs années plus tard, il a répondu que ce jour-là, il avait dit la plus grosse connerie de sa vie !

Le cyclo-voyageur ajoute une dimension particulière au voyage. En quelque sorte son déplacement constitue son voyage. Il ne se rend pas en un lieu pour le visiter, il pérégrine en recherchant les routes, les chemins ou les pistes les moins courues, et il en fait son voyage. L’itinéraire, lorsqu’on le parcourt à la force de ses mollets, on change l’esprit du déplacement. Bien sûr l’idée de challenge est toujours, plus ou moins, sous-jacente.

Ce type de réflexion, tout naturellement m’a conduit à envisager de partir à la découverte de la France profonde à travers les départements suivants, la Haute-Marne, la Meuse et la Meurthe-et-Moselle. Bien évidemment, nous sommes nombreux à y être passés, mais en voiture dans nos traversées browniennes, où l’on ne souffre pas le moindre retard, les yeux rivés sur le compteur, en essayant d’être toujours un peu au-dessus de la limite, à l’orée de déclencher les radars. Entre le compteur optimiste et la petite tolérance, sur route 90 affiché au compteur et 140 sur autoroute, généralement tout se passe bien. Mais les grands axes sont devenus une jungle, où toute notre attention est absorbée. Donc, même si nous avons traversé ces départements 52, 55 ou 54 que connaissons nous des campagnes profondes qui s’y cachent ? C’est justement à leur découverte, hors des voies habituelles du tourisme, que je veux m’aventurer quelques jours. Certes, les départements agricoles j’en ai une petite idée, ayant habité en Haute-Saône et ayant beaucoup parcouru à pied tout le sud-ouest de la France, en particulier le département du Gers, très impressionnant par ses moutonnements de terres cultivées qui se succèdent jusqu’à l’infini. Mais voilà, tous les départements ne se ressemblant pas, c’est donc plein de curiosité et aussi d’attentes que je me lance dans un « petit tour » de 400 kilomètres à partir de chez moi.

Je vais renouer avec le bikepacking, terme barbare qui signifie que l’on part avec un matériel allégé, avec des sacoches au look futuriste qui n’ont pas besoin de porte-bagages pour être accrochées. Bien évidemment la contenance en est moindre. Mais on se déplace toujours avec beaucoup trop d’affaires, qu’il s’agisse d’habits ou d’appareils électroniques en tous genres, sans parler des matériels de bivouac trop volumineux. Evidemment, ces derniers il en existe de poids et volume réduits, mais il faut oser passer le pas et mettre au rebus un équipement que l’on considère toujours efficace. Et puis, il faut s’adapter aux saisons et aux lieux. Cela conduit à avoir une tente pour l’été en Europe, une pour l’hiver, éventuellement celle de l’été suffit, mais pour les voyages lointains dans des pays au climat très hostile, là pas le choix du très costaud s’impose. Le voyage à vélo, afin de s’équiper de façon optimale selon les différentes options demande des moyens financiers.

Comme à chaque fois, que je pars pour un voyage engagé de longue durée sur un autre continent ou pour un petit tour de côté de chez moi, alors l’appel de la route s’impose. J’ai perdu l’habitude (à vrai dire je ne l’ai jamais eue) d’organiser mes affaires en bikepacking, il s’agit seulement de ma deuxième expérience, et de plus je pars dans l’euphorie de la première. En effet, j’avais effectué le premier jour 230 kilomètres, alors j’envisage avec un esprit tranquille mon étape initiale de 130 kilomètres. Quelle erreur ! 6h30, je prends la piste cyclable direction Remiremont. Les 25 premiers kilomètres sont rapidement expédiés. Les bosses apparaissent dès la sortie ouest de la ville et elles vont être nombreuses. Je ne serai pas en mesure d’en faire la somme des dénivelés cumulés, mon compteur va me lâcher aux environs des 80 kilomètres. Je prends la direction de Bains-les -Bains. Tout va bien, la forme semble bonne, la circulation est peu dense. Je me fais doubler au moment où je m’arrête par un couple de voyageurs équipés de vélos électriques. Evidemment je ne les rattraperai pas.

Pause-café, plutôt capuccino à Bains-les -Bains. Sur la terrasse on est autorisé à s’installer sans porter le masque. Sur mon vélo au milieu de la campagne déserte j’oublie rapidement la présence de la pandémie, mais dès que je pénètre dans une agglomération, les visages masqués me rappellent la situation que nous subissons à l’échelle mondiale. Sur cette terrasse, un homme m’aborde et me pose quelques questions sur mon périple. Il me donne une information intéressante concernant la piste cyclable qui longe le canal de l’est et qui passe à proximité. Je ne le savais pas et ma carte Michelin au 1/150 000ème couvrant les départements Haute-Saône et Vosges ne la mentionne pas.



Je vais la suivre une dizaine de kilomètres, parcours très agréable où je croise plusieurs voyageurs à vélo, dont deux familles lourdement équipées. Je rencontre aussi plusieurs bateaux, certains dans mon sens donc je les dépasse. J’éprouve toujours un grand plaisir à suivre les berges d’un cours d’eau ou d’un canal. Ce dernier insuffle la sérénité. Parfois la piste est cernée par l’eau. Mais tout a une fin, je reprends la route au village de Selle. En traversant des villages du bout du monde ou presque, tels que Regnévelle, Godoncourt ou Ainville je me dirige vers mon point de chute la ville de Montigny-le-Roy.



A vélo on passe rapidement de tout va bien à rien ne va plus. Mais il y a une explication à toutes choses. Sans doute l’absence d’entraînement depuis 18 mois, mais je ne me suis jamais entraîné avant de partir en balade. Peut-être l’âge ? mais plus probablement un mixte entre grosse chaleur et une très mauvaise gestion boisson nourriture. Il faut dire que dans ces coins durant les cinq jours de mon périple je ne rencontrerai quasiment aucun commerce ni bistrot. On a beau avoir une longue expérience en matière de voyage à vélo, les conneries de base on les fait encore parfois. Eh oui, cette idée de faire « seulement » 130 kilomètres m’a mis dans un état d’imprévoyance, m’imaginant que cela serait facile, et boum le coup de barre.

Je m’arrête dans un village asphyxié sous une chappe de chaleur, et à l’abri d’un mur, installé sur un petit carré de pelouse grillée je mange les deux œufs durs que j’ai pris la précaution d’emmener, ainsi que l’une des deux bananes que je possède. Je remplis mes bidons au magnifique lavoir.



Je sens la déshydratation assécher mon corps. En France, je n’avais jamais ressenti cela. Je ne crains pas le soleil, sans doute du fait de mon atavisme du sud de la Méditerranée, mais aujourd’hui je me sentirais presque en danger. Il me reste une trentaine de kilomètres pour boucler mon étape prévue. Généralement, je ne suis pas à cheval quant au respect de la planification, je peux sortir ma tente et m’installer dans le premier bosquet un peu à l’abri des regards. Mais aujourd’hui j’ai l’impression de cuire et je crains que sous la tente ce soit l’enfer. Donc je vais m’astreindre à rejoindre la ville afin de chercher un hôtel, en quête d’un peu de fraîcheur. Les derniers kilomètres sont un calvaire comme je n’en avais jamais connu. Les ultimes côtes, même pas très raides, je suis dans l’obligation de pousser mon vélo, bien qu’il soit en carbone et hyper léger, et même de m’arrêter sur le bas-côté et me vautrer dans l’herbe du talus à l’abri de l’ombre d’un arbre.

Cette première journée me laisse un peu dubitatif. J’ai eu l’impression de pédaler dans quelque pays exotique. Les jours à venir ne seront pas plus cléments, les prévisions météorologiques annoncent des pics de chaleur encore plus importants. Bon, nous verrons bien. Première mesure essayer de continuer à rouler très tôt et puis limiter les étapes à 70 kilomètres. Voilà il faut s’adapter, le corps commande et surtout rester à son écoute, ce que je n’ai pas vraiment fait aujourd’hui.

J’ai plusieurs amis qui sont des spécialistes du déplacement à vélo de nuit, en particulier au moment de la pleine lune, ils en parlent avec des trémolos dans la voix. Ce serait bien le moment d’essayer, la configuration actuelle de notre satellite s’y prête. Mais dans un premier temps j’aspire à une bonne nuit et, surtout à réhydrater mon corps. Ma devise « toujours pisser blanc » est mise à mal, mes urines sont d’un jaune plus que prononcé malgré les 4 litres d’eau de la journée. Je ne me souviens pas avoir subi de telles difficultés à avancer, conjonction d’erreurs et de canicule. Toujours très intéressant d’aller assez prêt de ses limites physiques, je me rends compte qu’il ne faut pas grand-chose pour dérègler la machine.

De la terrasse de l’hôtel, je regarde vers le nord, tout est jaune, desséché. Cela est presque inquiétant, on pourrait se croire quelque part au sud de l’Espagne, mais non il s’agit bien de la Haute-Marne. Demain je vais me contenter d’une étape de 60 kilomètres en rejoignant Neufchâteau, qui se trouve dans le département des Vosges.



Après une nuit correcte, au réveil je constate que la journée d’hier a laissé quelques traces et, contrairement à mon habitude, je ne démarre pas au lever du jour mais vers les 9 heures du matin. Très vite, la ville située sur une bosse est quittée et devant moi s’ouvrent à l’infini des prairies et des terres agricoles grillées par la sécheresse et les rayons ardents du soleil. Prendre une carte IGN ou Michelin, qu’elle soit au 1/100 00, 1/150 000 ou 1/175 000 -ème et y tracer son itinéraire le long de départementales matérialisées par un trait blanc bordé de deux lignes noires, alors vous êtes certain du résultat. Vous vous lancez dans une belle aventure loin des voitures, mais proche d’une nature et d’une vie locale que l’on a tendance à ne plus voir. Cette incursion dans le département 52, va me conduire de minuscule village en minuscule village, qui s’égrènent, de bosses en creux, tout au long d’une terre ondulante. Je ne vais y voir pratiquement aucun des êtres vivants que l’on s’attend à rencontrer, ni homme, ni chien, ni chat. Si, une fois, dans l’un de ces hameaux apparemment abandonnés, je vais croiser un homme seul, et il me rappelle que nous sommes en pandémie car il porte le masque, le fameux masque qui fait couler tant d’encre et de salive chez les Gaulois récalcitrants.

A vrai dire je vais côtoyer de nombreuses vaches, qui lorsqu’elles le peuvent s’agglutinent à l’ombre d’un arbre de leur pâture. Elles sont comme de gros points blancs dans cet environnement couleur blond, couleur paille. Les ondulations permanentes de cette terre procurent des contrastes du plus bel effet entre le doré du sol et le bleu du ciel. L’une et l’autre des couleurs ne se mélangent pas comme sur une aquarelle, au contraire elles se maintiennent bien séparées par une ligne horizontale sans accroc. Cette matinée me fait une impression étrange. Ce décor de villages déserts alanguis dans un autre temps, de champs, de vaches, d’odeur de purin et de présence de traces de bouses un peu partout me remémore ma traversée de la Pologne par ses grandes plaines, il y a maintenant une dizaine d’années. Certes, en Pologne l’environnement, les habitations les matériels agricoles étaient plus vétustes, mais je m’y vois presque dans ces immenses plaines où les Allemands livrèrent de dures batailles avant de reculer devant le rouleau compresseur soviétique. D’ailleurs, ironie du sort dans ces hameaux de Haute-Marne, la présence humaine est surtout représentée par les monuments aux morts rappelant les soldats tombés au champ d’honneur pour la France.



Au village de Pompierre je m’arrête vers midi, la température a déjà largement dépassé les 30 degrés, et cela va continuer à monter jusque vers 15 heures. Allongé au bout d’un pont à l’ombre d’un arbre je savoure la brise très ténue créée par le cours d’eau pas encore asséché, mais qui cependant a des airs de moribond qui ne devrait pas tarder à rendre les armes. Un coureur, plus très jeune, passe à trois reprises, suant et harassé sous le soleil vertical le dardant sans pitié. Au troisième passage je l’interroge. Il me répond qu’il vient d’effectuer par 3 fois un parcours de 2,5 kilomètres. Chapeau, car à part l’ombre de mon arbre son circuit se déroule en plein champ. Il me donnerait presque de la vaillance. Après trois quarts d’heure de station allongée, je prends à deux mains, sinon mon courage, du moins mon guidon et j’accomplis les 11 derniers kilomètres qui me séparent de Neufchâteau.

L’ambiance dans les villes est quand même un peu étrange, tout le monde ou presque est masqué. Dès que je descends de vélo je dégaine le mien. Il fait tellement chaud que je n’ai même pas faim. Je me force cependant à ingurgiter les différents éléments du menu que fort gentiment le propriétaire de l’hôtel me propose alors qu’il est déjà 14 heures. En ce troisième jour je compte rejoindre la ville de Commercy dans la Meuse, encore un département très agricole. Vu les conditions de forme pas au top et les conditions météorologiques par contre au top de la chaleur, ce sera le point le plus haut de mon parcours pour une sortie de 5 jours. Dans mon euphorie initiale je me serais bien vu monter au moins jusqu’à la frontière du Luxembourg. Mais voilà, entre ce que l’on désirerait et la réalité, cette dernière gagne généralement.



Comme hier, la même campagne assoiffée se déroule de part et d’autre de mon chemin. Je traverse le village natal de Jeanne-d ’Arc, Domremy-la -Pucelle. Il n’a pas de privilège particulier, lui aussi crie à boire. Puis je traverse une route plus importante et reprends mon itinérance au gré de départementales confidentielles. Je vais croiser quelques voyageurs à vélo, deux solitaires et un couple à vélo électrique. Généralement lorsque je croise d’autres adeptes du voyage à vélo je les intercepte pour discuter. Mais aujourd’hui non, d’ailleurs le bikepacker, bien qu’il se traîne, est-il considéré comme faisant partie de la même tribu ? Le deuxième solitaire rencontré est terriblement chargé, quatre énormes sacoches. Où va-t-il donc, quelle est la durée de son périple ? Tel que je suis équipé, je pourrais continuer beaucoup plus que les cinq jours prévus. J’ai tout pour être autonome, même 250 grammes de riz en cas de bivouac improvisé à la dernière extrémité. Apprendre à être minimaliste n’est pas facile. Je garde en mémoire les conseils d’un camarade spécialiste des grandes traversées en courant, du style Australie ou autre immenses étendues hostiles. Son slogan « si tu oublies quelque chose tu t’en passes ». Je me souviens aussi de ce Chamoniard rencontré au nord de la Thaïlande, qui roulait depuis 7 mois avec deux petites sacoches. Nous avions fait route ensemble quelques centaines de kilomètres et j’avais pu observer son fonctionnement. J’avais beaucoup appris en quelques jours.



En fin de parcours je traverse la Meuse à plusieurs reprises. Non seulement la végétation manque d’eau, mais la rivière aussi souffre de la sécheresse. Son débit est faible, partout affleurent de grands bancs d’algues aux couleurs diverses, mais son eau reste claire. Des différents ponts sur lesquels je m’arrête j’observe des multitudes de poissons. Je n’avais jamais vu une rivière aussi poissonneuse. A mon regard se dévoilent des chevennes, gardons et autres ablettes. Mais s’ils sont si nombreux, à n’en pas douter les carnassiers, comme brochets, sandres ou perches voire truites sont tapis quelque part en attente de les dévorer.



Avant d’atteindre mon but je me perds et fais des détours dans le village de Sorcy-Saint-Martin qui me permettent quelques contacts intéressants avec les rares personnes qui osent affronter le soleil de tout début d’après-midi. Commercy, petite ville avec un centre qui rappelle la place Stanislas de Nancy. Ce soir va s’y dérouler un concert en l’honneur de Johnny. Le chanteur est très bon, on s’y croirait tout à fait. Le contrôle de la police sera effectif en matière de distanciation. En ce quatrième jour je pars à huit heures du matin. Après un kilomètre je passe devant une pharmacie, déjà 28 degrés, il faut s’attendre encore une fois à une grosse attaque de la canicule. Pour le moment il est très agréable de pédaler. Aujourd’hui encore l’eau reste présente sur mon itinéraire. Entre le canal et la Meuse j’ai tout loisir d’observer l’eau et bien évidemment j’y vois des poissons de toutes tailles. Mes lunettes de soleil polarisantes m’aident grandement du fait qu’elles font disparaître les reflets. Je suis comme un intrus voyeur, j’adore ! Les trois premières heures sont un véritable plaisir. J’effectue une cinquantaine de kilomètres. Puis vers les 11 heures la chape de plomb comme les jours précédents s’abat. La moyenne tombe, les efforts deviennent pénibles. Je ne passe pas très loin de la colline de Sion « la colline inspirée » de Maurice Barrès. Le détour à vélo, agrémenté d’une belle côte par une température frisant les 40 degrés, me semble surhumain. Je vais rejoindre rapidement et au plus court la petite ville de Charmes et aller me planquer au frais dans un hôtel un peu au sud. Le soir, discussion sur la terrasse d’une pizzeria avec une Hollandaise qui parcourt à vélo l’itinéraire d’Achern aux Saintes-Maries-de-la Mer. Elle effectue de courtes étapes de l’ordre de 30 à 40 kilomètres, mais elle affronte le bivouac, ce que je n’ai pas le courage de faire.



En ce cinquième et dernier jour, une matinée plus propice au vélo, car un ciel légèrement voilé protège un peu du soleil, par la route au plus court je rejoins Remiremont. De là par la piste cyclable empruntant l’ancienne voie ferrée en 25 kilomètres je remonte la vallée de la Moselotte. Au cours de ce périple qui avoisine les 400 kilomètres les bistrots auront pratiquement été absents du bord de la route. Pour me rattraper, alors que je ne suis plus qu’à 6 kilomètres de chez moi, je m’arrête à l’ancienne gare de Saulxures, transformée en bar-restaurant et je déguste deux panachés. Ce coin m’est particulièrement familier, car souvent j’y laisse ma voiture pour partir assouvir l’une de mes passions la pêche à la mouche.

Belle brochette de vaches vosgiennes en remontant la vallée de la Moselotte, retour chez moi

Cinq jours sur la route, j’ai beaucoup apprécié de me déplacer sur ces routes hors des axes de circulation et aussi un peu hors du temps, ma curiosité toujours aiguisée par ces coins de France déserts. Mais malheureusement, je n’ai pratiquement jamais eu l’impression de me sentir à l’aise, le grand plaisir des kilomètres qui défilent comme si je volais. J’ai toujours ressenti cette impression de forcer excessivement comparativement aux distances accomplies. Espérons qu’il ne s’agisse que de l’effet de la canicule !

Bonsoir,

quelques petites questions. Si quelqu'un à une ou plusieurs réponses, c'est avec plaisir que je les lirais.

- Le tourisme représente quel pourcentage du PIB des Philippines ?

- Est-ce que vous savez combien de personnes travaillent dans la branche touristique aux Philippines ?

- Je lis, un peu partout, qu'il arrive assez souvent que les transports en commun aient un peu, voir beaucoup de retard. Si vous deviez vous déplacer d'un point A à un point B et que ce trajet requière plusieurs transports publics. Est-ce que vous prenez vos billets, un à la fois, par étape ? Ou est-ce que vous prenez tout vos billets en même temps ? Exemple aller de Cebu à Pandan, il y a des bus et des ferrys.

- Je regarde des vlogs sur Youtube. Je vois que dans les principaux endroits, comme Manille, Cebu, la plupart des gens portent un masque. Par contre, j'ai l'impression qu'ailleurs, c'est nettement moins populaire. Est-ce que je me trompe ? (j'ai regardé la courbes des nouveaux cas journaliers concernant la Covid-19, c'est pas joie en ce moment aux Philippines).

Merci aux personnes qui prendront le temps de me répondre.

Une belle fin de soirée à vous.

Bonjour,

Plus les mois passent, plus je commence à me faire à l'idée qu'il y aura décidément un avant et un après pour ce pays que nous aimons tous. J'avoue humblement que je suis passé d'optimiste à pessimiste.

Aujourd'hui le gouvernement Thaï change les règles, et pour combien de temps

Nous savons maintenant avec certitude que ce sera le parcours du combattant pour y retourner cette année , sans parler du nerf de la guerre ce coût financier qui se dessine . (Assurance , quarantaine, test, bulle j'en passe etc ... )

Vais-je accepter payer une assurance la peau des fesses pour rester enfermé 14 jours dans un hôtel à 64€ par nuit. Ensuite on ne sait pas à quelle sauce on nous mettra sur des rails.

Suis-je le seul à penser cela ?

Enfermé depuis Mars , j'ai vraiment pas envie de rester en France cet hiver . ...

Mais pour aller ou ? Quel est le pays qui se rapproche le plus de la Thaïlande ?

Je saisis au vol cette remarque d'Attila (que je partage!)

Franchement, je serais le gouvernement, je demanderais l'asile en ...?... et dirais aux français, démerdez vous.

et cette autre :

On fait le coucou dans les discussions mais jamais on n'en entame une...

pour proposer un nouveau post sur un mode très différent de voyager.

Où aimeriez-vous partir vivre?

Bien sûr vous choisissez votre pays ou région d'accueil, on part du principe que ce n'est pas une obligation que l'on vous fait.

Et vous avez besoin de vous éloigner momentanément de votre lieu de vie habituel, pour quelque raison que ce soit.

Quels seraient les atouts locaux importants pour vous de cette nouvelle installation : population, climat, paysages, archéologie, autres .... ?

Bonjour à tous, Après 2 séjours de 5 semaines chacun en Thaïlande, l'envie de retourner en Asie nous démange... Nous avons pour projet de partir 3 mois en avril, mai et juin avec nos deux enfants qui auront 6 ans et 3 ans. C'est encore un "projet" et nous bloquons vraiment sur l'itinéraire (qui me parait essentiel pour dessiner ce projet).

Pensez-vous que ce soit simple de faire Philippines > Malaisie > Indonésie ? (ordre le plus logique par rapport aux saisons)

Pensez-vous qu'une escale en nouvelle Calédonie ou Polynésie française au cours du voyage puisse être à envisager ?

Est-ce que l'ordre des pays vous parait le plus simple?

Merci de vos réponses !

Nous sommes le xx xx xxxx, jour de votre déconfinement, vous êtes guéri ou n'avez jamais été en contact avec le virus couronné. Qu'imaginez-vous faire en premier ? 😛

(Par simplicité, nous allons partir du principe que votre région est redevenue comme avant à défaut du monde.)

Bonjour,

Je devais aller cet été au Groenland mais j'ai annulé. Du coup, je devais passer 21 jours aux marquises en 2021 mais comme je tiens absolument à me rendre au Groenland l'année prochaine, les Marquises ça sera pour 2022.

ça me permet de prendre mon temps pour trouver ce qui me correspond le mieux. J'ai déjà échangé avec plusieurs d'entre vous.

J'ai l'intention de rester 3 semaines dans la même île. Au début, j'avais choisi Maupiti puis mon choix s'est porté sur Hiva Oa. J'ai échangé avec une autochtone qui loue des bungalows. J'en ai trouvé un pour 100 euros/nuit. Elle me fait un prix car j'y resterai 3 semaines. 100 euros en demi pension par jour. ça me semble honnête. Peut être que ça aura augmenté dans deux ans ?

Qui s'est rendu à HIVA OA et peux m'en parler ? Je suis contemplative mais trois semaines au même endroit n'est ce pas trop long ?

Le cas échéant, n'est il pas préférable que je me rende sur une autre île ? Je pense à Maupiti mais la liaison aérienne Maupiti Hiva Oa est est possible et vous me conseilleriez de le faire dans quel ordre ? D'abord Hiva Oa ou d'abord Maupiti ? La liaison aérienne entre les deux îles est elle coûteuse ?

En effet, le vol Paris-Papetee-Hiva Oa est coûteux et je crains qu'il en soit de même pour Hiva Oa-Maupiti.

Enfin, Maupiti n'est il pas devenu trop touristique par rapport à Hiva Oa ? Je précise que je m'y rendrai au mois d'octobre.

Un grand merci pour votre aide.

Confinement vôtre.

Nat

Bonjour

J'aimerai améliorer le rendement de mon vélo, un VTT trek 6700 de 2011 que j'utilise pour mes randos cyclo. Les roulements de roues sont assez basiques : des billes dans de la graisse. Je me posais la question à savoir s'il était possible et intéressant de les changer pour des roulements intégrant les billes dans une cage. La question suivante est qu'il y a tout un tas de dimensions différentes pour les roulements, comment trouver la bonne dimension? Est-ce qu'il y a un roulement standard pour ce type de moyeu ou faut-il changer le moyeu, dans ce cas le coût ne risque-t-il pas d'être assez élevé? Merci.

Bonjour à tou(te)s,

Tout d'abord, un grand merci 😉 à Joska, Sarnia, Toilapol, 4yne, Musclass, Maclaro et les autres membres VF dont j'ai regardé les CR et qui m'ont aidé dans la préparation et l'attente de ce voyage.

Je me lance donc dans un petit résumé de notre croisière en Antarctique à bord du Boreal qui s’est déroulée du 26 février au 7 mars 2020. Cette croisière était en partenariat avec National Geographic.

Nous sommes revenus émerveillés de ce voyage 😇 qui s’est très bien passé. Nous avons eu une équipe de naturalistes et un équipage formidables à tous les points de vue 😎 : navigation, hôtellerie/restauration, animation…

Nous avons eu une traversée du Drake très mouvementée 🏴‍☠️ à l’aller (creux de 7 mètres, vent à 60 nœuds) mais nous avons été récompensés par une météo exceptionnelle 😄 en Antarctique.

Nous avons pu faire tous les jours deux sorties (sauf en Mer de Weddell, un seul débarquement), voire quatre pour nous 😇 l’avant-dernier jour en Péninsule car nous avons eu la chance de pouvoir faire du kayak sans supplément de prix.

La faune était au rendez-vous : manchots bien sûr, baleines très nombreuses, orques, phoques de Weddell, crabier, léopard, otaries, damiers du Cap…Un bonheur !

La carte de la croisière :



Brown Bluff



Balade en zodiac, Baie de Brialmont



Rorqual à bosse



Baie de la Salpétrière

Port Charcot



A bientôt pour la suite...😉

Qui est à Bangkok en ce moment pour témoigner un peu de l’ambiance sur place et notamment là où habituellement il y a beaucoup de monde et d’animations comme kao san road ou sukhumvit ? Je suis actuellement à KohNgai et il n’y a pratiquement personne, c’est à la fois agréable et inquiétant sans parler de la perte économique pour ceux qui vivent du tourisme. En théorie.... je rejoins Bangkok le 26 mars pour repartir à Paris avec la Qatar mais d’ici là....qui sait ?.?