Results for "Mur+Berlin+|+9+>+196"
7145 results found.
Popular Palace Mumbai (Inde) English translation pending
Bonjour,
Est-ce que quelqu'un peut me dire où se trouve ce palace à 500 roupies ?
Merci
Est-ce que quelqu'un peut me dire où se trouve ce palace à 500 roupies ?
Merci
Hôtel Casa del mar English translation pending
Salut !
Grâce à vos conseils j'ai enfin réussi à faire un choix (en fait j'ai surtout pris ce qui restait...) mais pas de regrets car il s'agit du casa del mar 😛
donc si tout va bien moi et ma petite famille serons au paradis dans - de 3 semaines !!😎
Si vous avez des recomandations de dernière minutes c le moment...
Merci !!!
Grâce à vos conseils j'ai enfin réussi à faire un choix (en fait j'ai surtout pris ce qui restait...) mais pas de regrets car il s'agit du casa del mar 😛
donc si tout va bien moi et ma petite famille serons au paradis dans - de 3 semaines !!😎
Si vous avez des recomandations de dernière minutes c le moment...
Merci !!!
Traverser l'Europe en camionnette English translation pending
qq'un a déjà traverser l'Europe en camionette? De paris à Moscou. Le voyage en vaut-il la peine? Où mieux vaut prendre euroline? ça va couter combien en essence (diesel)? merci
Adresses à Jérusalem, Petra et Amman English translation pending
Bonjour à tous,
Je suis à la recherche d'adresses d'hotels au meilleur prix et au confort sommaire pour ces 3 villes, Jérusalem, Amman, Petra, je pars en fin de semaine merci à tous pour vos réponses avisées.
J'ai déjà les adresses des YMCA en Israël.
Aussi une petite idée d'itinéraire pour 2-3 jours en Israël, 2-3 jours en Jordanie ? Après je vais en Egypte où je connais un peu. Merci
Je suis à la recherche d'adresses d'hotels au meilleur prix et au confort sommaire pour ces 3 villes, Jérusalem, Amman, Petra, je pars en fin de semaine merci à tous pour vos réponses avisées.
J'ai déjà les adresses des YMCA en Israël.
Aussi une petite idée d'itinéraire pour 2-3 jours en Israël, 2-3 jours en Jordanie ? Après je vais en Egypte où je connais un peu. Merci
Notre entourage nous prend pour des tarés totals English translation pending
salut a tous
je sais bien que peut etre c'est le cas pour un peu nous tous qui souhaitont quitté cette societe qui nous envoient des images a longueur de journée au JT de 20h que la planete est mal barre.ensuite la pub l''Oréal pour ressembler a Adriana Karembeu bref moi et mon didou on prepare un tdm avec tous les continents a visiter, on est en pleine preparation et alors franchement je crois de + en + que notre entourage amical est completement beauf, bidochon enfin tous ce qu'on veut sauf jeunes, on s'en plein la tronche avec eux du genre "rester chez vous, le monde va mal" "qu'est ce que ca va vs apporter" "il serait temp de vs stabiliser" on a 25 ans en parenthese bref je crois qu'on doit changer d'amis non!!!! 😉
je sais bien que peut etre c'est le cas pour un peu nous tous qui souhaitont quitté cette societe qui nous envoient des images a longueur de journée au JT de 20h que la planete est mal barre.ensuite la pub l''Oréal pour ressembler a Adriana Karembeu bref moi et mon didou on prepare un tdm avec tous les continents a visiter, on est en pleine preparation et alors franchement je crois de + en + que notre entourage amical est completement beauf, bidochon enfin tous ce qu'on veut sauf jeunes, on s'en plein la tronche avec eux du genre "rester chez vous, le monde va mal" "qu'est ce que ca va vs apporter" "il serait temp de vs stabiliser" on a 25 ans en parenthese bref je crois qu'on doit changer d'amis non!!!! 😉
Neige à Paris, ou de l'autre côté du miroir English translation pending
Ce titre n'a pas pour vocation à plagier Bergmann.
Il est trois heures du mat. J'écris brut de fonderie, sans recopie, directement, suite à ce qui vient de se passer.
Ce soir, il a neigé de folie à Paris. Ce genre d'évènements est suffisamment rares pour fédérer comme par magie tous les noctambules. Je rentrais du judo, via un bar où j'ai discuté avec d'anciens copains de promo (la fanfare de Centrale Lyon), en vélo, sous la neige. Il neigeait des cordes (ça se dit???), et la remontée de la butte jusqu'à chez moi fut des plus rudes. C'est transformé en demi bonhomme de neige (par l'avant) que je suis parvenu dans la cour de mon immeuble où j'ai garé mon vieux vélo. J'étais dans un état d'esprit euphorique, de ces états d'esprit quand on sort d'une séance d'entrainement de judo super éprouvante, et aussi de ces états d'esprits de quand il neige à Paris. La combinaison des deux fut explosive. J'ai décidé, encore couvert de sueur et de neige, de ne pas monter chez moi tout de suite, mais de continuer encore cent cinquante mètres jusqu'à l'esplanade du Sacré Coeur (une belle course, surtout par l'arête est, à faire en hivernale quand c'est en bonnes conditions). C'était magnifique, je n'avais jamais vu Paris comme ça, la Butte Montmartre encore moins, et j'ai hâte de voir ça demain au lever du jour (gloups, c'est dans pas longtemps, en fait, je crois que je dormirai). La baston générale n'a pas tardé à avoir lieu. Les boules de neige fusaient de toute part, les équipes se faisaient au gré des configurations spatiales des regroupements. Les voitures, surtout les taxis, et les parapluis étaient visés prioritairement. C'était très rigolo. Après largement plus d'une heure de batailles acharnées, j'ai entendu des polonais crier en trinquant "Senslivego Nowego Roku" (Bonne Année). J'ai répété en coeur, et j'ai été aussitôt invité à trinquer avec eux. C'était du champagne, et ils fétaient réellement la nouvelle année. Peut être étaient-ils un peu décalés. Ce fut fantastique. Nous avons commencé à parler en polonais. Puis un peu en anglais aussi (mon polonais est quand même très limité). Et finalement, je les ai invités chez moi (cent cinquante mètre - retour) à boire un peu de Zubrowka qu'il me restait. Ils ne se sont pas fait prier. Ils étaient 4. Trois femmes polonaises, et un ardéchois. Tous des chanteurs. Lui, parlait anglais avec elles. Il était l'organisateur d'un festival de chant et de musique traditionnelle polonaise dans son village en Ardèche. Je ne sais vraiment pas ce qu'ils foutaient sous cette pluie de boules de neiges à Paris, à Montmartre, mais ils étaient là. On a bu chez moi moultes toasts, et on a beaucoup parlé, dans toutes les langues étrangères que je connaissais, c'était super sympa. Je crois qu'ils ont été enchanté de cette rencontre, et moi, je me projetais en voyage, et je m'imaginais à leur place, dans une capitale européenne difficile, où les gens savent surtout klaxonner et s'engueuler d'une voiture à une autre, ne connaissant personne, et tombant par un hasard extraordinaire sur quelqu'un qui baragouine tant bien que mal ma langue, et qui m'invite chez lui boire un coup. Je me dis maintenant que le voyage commence définitivement à la porte de chez soi, il commence avec la rencontre de l'autre, des autres. Ce soir, j'ai voyagé même dans mon propre appart. J'étais dans le même état d'esprit de rencontre et d'ouverture aux autres que lorsque je voyage. Ce fut fantastique. Merci la vie, tout simplement.
Ils viennent juste de partir, il est trois heures, et si je fais des fautes de frappe, c'est que ma bouteille n'était pas si vide que ça.
Merci de votre attention et de votre patience (j'écris un peu trop dans cette rubrique, en ce moment, je sais). Je vous laisse, je vais cuver. Ciao. Do widzenia.
Loopkin
Il est trois heures du mat. J'écris brut de fonderie, sans recopie, directement, suite à ce qui vient de se passer.
Ce soir, il a neigé de folie à Paris. Ce genre d'évènements est suffisamment rares pour fédérer comme par magie tous les noctambules. Je rentrais du judo, via un bar où j'ai discuté avec d'anciens copains de promo (la fanfare de Centrale Lyon), en vélo, sous la neige. Il neigeait des cordes (ça se dit???), et la remontée de la butte jusqu'à chez moi fut des plus rudes. C'est transformé en demi bonhomme de neige (par l'avant) que je suis parvenu dans la cour de mon immeuble où j'ai garé mon vieux vélo. J'étais dans un état d'esprit euphorique, de ces états d'esprit quand on sort d'une séance d'entrainement de judo super éprouvante, et aussi de ces états d'esprits de quand il neige à Paris. La combinaison des deux fut explosive. J'ai décidé, encore couvert de sueur et de neige, de ne pas monter chez moi tout de suite, mais de continuer encore cent cinquante mètres jusqu'à l'esplanade du Sacré Coeur (une belle course, surtout par l'arête est, à faire en hivernale quand c'est en bonnes conditions). C'était magnifique, je n'avais jamais vu Paris comme ça, la Butte Montmartre encore moins, et j'ai hâte de voir ça demain au lever du jour (gloups, c'est dans pas longtemps, en fait, je crois que je dormirai). La baston générale n'a pas tardé à avoir lieu. Les boules de neige fusaient de toute part, les équipes se faisaient au gré des configurations spatiales des regroupements. Les voitures, surtout les taxis, et les parapluis étaient visés prioritairement. C'était très rigolo. Après largement plus d'une heure de batailles acharnées, j'ai entendu des polonais crier en trinquant "Senslivego Nowego Roku" (Bonne Année). J'ai répété en coeur, et j'ai été aussitôt invité à trinquer avec eux. C'était du champagne, et ils fétaient réellement la nouvelle année. Peut être étaient-ils un peu décalés. Ce fut fantastique. Nous avons commencé à parler en polonais. Puis un peu en anglais aussi (mon polonais est quand même très limité). Et finalement, je les ai invités chez moi (cent cinquante mètre - retour) à boire un peu de Zubrowka qu'il me restait. Ils ne se sont pas fait prier. Ils étaient 4. Trois femmes polonaises, et un ardéchois. Tous des chanteurs. Lui, parlait anglais avec elles. Il était l'organisateur d'un festival de chant et de musique traditionnelle polonaise dans son village en Ardèche. Je ne sais vraiment pas ce qu'ils foutaient sous cette pluie de boules de neiges à Paris, à Montmartre, mais ils étaient là. On a bu chez moi moultes toasts, et on a beaucoup parlé, dans toutes les langues étrangères que je connaissais, c'était super sympa. Je crois qu'ils ont été enchanté de cette rencontre, et moi, je me projetais en voyage, et je m'imaginais à leur place, dans une capitale européenne difficile, où les gens savent surtout klaxonner et s'engueuler d'une voiture à une autre, ne connaissant personne, et tombant par un hasard extraordinaire sur quelqu'un qui baragouine tant bien que mal ma langue, et qui m'invite chez lui boire un coup. Je me dis maintenant que le voyage commence définitivement à la porte de chez soi, il commence avec la rencontre de l'autre, des autres. Ce soir, j'ai voyagé même dans mon propre appart. J'étais dans le même état d'esprit de rencontre et d'ouverture aux autres que lorsque je voyage. Ce fut fantastique. Merci la vie, tout simplement.
Ils viennent juste de partir, il est trois heures, et si je fais des fautes de frappe, c'est que ma bouteille n'était pas si vide que ça.
Merci de votre attention et de votre patience (j'écris un peu trop dans cette rubrique, en ce moment, je sais). Je vous laisse, je vais cuver. Ciao. Do widzenia.
Loopkin
Panama au mois de mai-juin English translation pending
Est-ce qu'il y a des gens qui sont déjà allé au Panama (ou autre destination d'Amérique centrale) durant le mois de mai - juin? Qu'Est-ce que vous en pensez? Est-ce qu'il fait trop chaud? La nature doit être belle? Est-ce qu.il pleut 24h sur 24?
Un peu perdu... English translation pending
Y aurait-il un ami français pour m, expliquer ce qu'est :
un F-1 F-2 etc....
un T-1 T-2 etc...
et il y aurait parait-il des M-.....???
Je planifie coqchose du coté de la Martinique mais je suppose que c, est pareil en métropiole....???
Merci à vous...
Memphre
SVP....arrangez-vous pour avoir tous la même réponse....
Je planifie coqchose du coté de la Martinique mais je suppose que c, est pareil en métropiole....???
Merci à vous...
Memphre
SVP....arrangez-vous pour avoir tous la même réponse....
La Jamaique, dangereuse?? English translation pending
Bonjour!
Je fais des recherches pour un éventuel voyage avec mon conjoint et nos 2 filles.
Je m'intéressais à la Jamaique, et j'ai meme découvert un club qui semblait tres interessant : http://www.fdrholidays.com/
Mais suite à d'autres lectures, je m'inquiète de la sécurité "relative" de l'île et des touristes. http://www.all-jamaica.com/jamaica/dangers.html
Qu'en pensez-vous? Iriez-vous là-bas avec de jeunes enfants? J'ai pas envie de les mettre en danger de quelque façon que ce soit. Ni même ma propre personne d'ailleurs! 😉
N.B. Je ne parle pas de simple "vol à la tire" ou autres, présents dans n'importe quel voyage à l'étranger. Je m'inquiète du niveau de criminalité qui semble être très élevé...)
Merci! 🙂
Mais suite à d'autres lectures, je m'inquiète de la sécurité "relative" de l'île et des touristes. http://www.all-jamaica.com/jamaica/dangers.html
Qu'en pensez-vous? Iriez-vous là-bas avec de jeunes enfants? J'ai pas envie de les mettre en danger de quelque façon que ce soit. Ni même ma propre personne d'ailleurs! 😉
N.B. Je ne parle pas de simple "vol à la tire" ou autres, présents dans n'importe quel voyage à l'étranger. Je m'inquiète du niveau de criminalité qui semble être très élevé...)
Merci! 🙂
Destination Zimbabwe- victoria falls English translation pending
Bonjour,
Besoin de vos lumières....et surtout de vos conseils : je pars voir les chutes victoria dans 2 petites semaines. Je suis à la recherche d'un logement (type hotel, bungalow) pas trop cher... et bien situé pour y passer 2 nuits. J'ai quelques numéros de tel .. mais si je pouvais éviter de téléphoner au Zimbawe ....!
Merci pour votre aide
Odile2re
Besoin de vos lumières....et surtout de vos conseils : je pars voir les chutes victoria dans 2 petites semaines. Je suis à la recherche d'un logement (type hotel, bungalow) pas trop cher... et bien situé pour y passer 2 nuits. J'ai quelques numéros de tel .. mais si je pouvais éviter de téléphoner au Zimbawe ....!
Merci pour votre aide
Odile2re
Pourquoi vous voulez faire de l'humanitaire? English translation pending
Voila, c'est une question qui me travaille, non pas que j'ai qlque chose à reprocher à tout ça, bien au contraire. Mais tout le monde (presque ...) à un moment ou un autre semble avoir envie d'aider son prochain, de preference à l'etranger, avec toutes les convictions et motivations que cela implique. Qu'est ce c'est pour vous l'humanitaire, comment vous voyez ça, pour ceux qui l'ont vécu, pour ceux qui souhaitent le vivre ... allez, faisons tourner le moulin.
Superclub Breezes Punta Cana English translation pending
Bonjour,
Mon conjoint et moi envisageons un voyage de 2 semaines au Superclub Breezes de Punta Cana en février 2004 avec nos 3 enfants (4 - 6½ - 9 ans). On nous offre une suite familiale. Est-ce que quelqu'un d'entre vous y est déjà allé avec des jeunes enfants? Comment était-ce pour eux? Comment était le confort de la suite, si vous y êtes déjà allés? J'aimerais aussi avoir des commentaires sur le miniclub. Tous vos commentaires sont les bienvenus! Merci d'avance!!
Johanne
Mon conjoint et moi envisageons un voyage de 2 semaines au Superclub Breezes de Punta Cana en février 2004 avec nos 3 enfants (4 - 6½ - 9 ans). On nous offre une suite familiale. Est-ce que quelqu'un d'entre vous y est déjà allé avec des jeunes enfants? Comment était-ce pour eux? Comment était le confort de la suite, si vous y êtes déjà allés? J'aimerais aussi avoir des commentaires sur le miniclub. Tous vos commentaires sont les bienvenus! Merci d'avance!!
Johanne
Punta Cana ou les Cayo? English translation pending
On arrive de Holguin et on pense déjà retourner dans les Antilles en juillet 2004. On voudrait explorer un autre coin. On hésite entre Punta Cana et les Cayos (CoCo ou Guillermo) de Cuba comme prochaine destination. Avez-vous des préférences ou des suggestions d'hôtel ou de sites?
On arrive du Playa Pesquero et on a adoré; c'est très bien organisé pour les familles avec ados de 12 et 14 ans et la bouffe est excellente - pour Cuba!-
Si on peut trouver un resort d'aussi bonne qualité dans un autre coin, ça nous ferait un beau voyage 2004 avec nos kids avec des horizons différents.
Vos commentaires et suggestions seraient appréciés.
On arrive du Playa Pesquero et on a adoré; c'est très bien organisé pour les familles avec ados de 12 et 14 ans et la bouffe est excellente - pour Cuba!-
Si on peut trouver un resort d'aussi bonne qualité dans un autre coin, ça nous ferait un beau voyage 2004 avec nos kids avec des horizons différents.
Vos commentaires et suggestions seraient appréciés.
Hôtel Casa Marina Reef et température à Sosua English translation pending
Bonjour,
j'aurais quelques questions, cet hiver du 03 janvier 04 au 17 janvier 04 je planifie d'aller à Sosua à l'hôtel Casa Marina Reef - Beach .. et j'aurais aimer savoir :
1- La température se situent à comment environ à cette période?
2- L'eau est à combien de degrées à cette période?
3- La plage est-elle belle et escequ'il y a beaucoup de soleil généralement?
Des réponses serait très appréciées et je vous remercient à l'avance!
Merci !
Sandra
j'aurais quelques questions, cet hiver du 03 janvier 04 au 17 janvier 04 je planifie d'aller à Sosua à l'hôtel Casa Marina Reef - Beach .. et j'aurais aimer savoir :
1- La température se situent à comment environ à cette période?
2- L'eau est à combien de degrées à cette période?
3- La plage est-elle belle et escequ'il y a beaucoup de soleil généralement?
Des réponses serait très appréciées et je vous remercient à l'avance!
Merci !
Sandra
Billet d'avion et passeport pour le Mexique English translation pending
Salut
Je pars au Mexique fin septembre début octobre pour une durée de 1 an.
Je suis a la recherche de mon billet d’avion. J’aimerai payer le moins cher possible Je me pose pas mal de questions : Billet aller-retour ou un aller simple ? Parce qu’en faite j’ai commencé à me renseigner. Pour les billets aller-retour, ça n a pas l air de se faire beaucoup de réserver le billet retour pour dans 1 an. Mais si je prends un billet simple est-ce que ça ne va pas me poser de problème a l aéroport sachant que je n aurai qu un visa touriste? Dans une agence on m’ a dit que si je prenais un vol via les États-Unis, il fallait un passeport à lecture optique et donc il faudrait repayer environ 60euro pour rajouter ce truc. En avez-vous entendu parler ? est ce vraiment obligatoire ?
Merci pour tous les renseignements que vous pourrez me donner.
Emilie
Je pars au Mexique fin septembre début octobre pour une durée de 1 an.
Je suis a la recherche de mon billet d’avion. J’aimerai payer le moins cher possible Je me pose pas mal de questions : Billet aller-retour ou un aller simple ? Parce qu’en faite j’ai commencé à me renseigner. Pour les billets aller-retour, ça n a pas l air de se faire beaucoup de réserver le billet retour pour dans 1 an. Mais si je prends un billet simple est-ce que ça ne va pas me poser de problème a l aéroport sachant que je n aurai qu un visa touriste? Dans une agence on m’ a dit que si je prenais un vol via les États-Unis, il fallait un passeport à lecture optique et donc il faudrait repayer environ 60euro pour rajouter ce truc. En avez-vous entendu parler ? est ce vraiment obligatoire ?
Merci pour tous les renseignements que vous pourrez me donner.
Emilie
Hurghada ou Sharm el Sheikh pour le snorkeling? (Egypte) English translation pending
😊 bonjour
nous aimerions aller en egypte en decembre pour faire du snorkeling.
nous hesitons entre hurghada et sharm el sheikh ?
que me conseillez vous ?
connaissez vous un hotel avec une plage sympa pour faire du snorkeling ?
merci beaucoup
vero
nous aimerions aller en egypte en decembre pour faire du snorkeling.
nous hesitons entre hurghada et sharm el sheikh ?
que me conseillez vous ?
connaissez vous un hotel avec une plage sympa pour faire du snorkeling ?
merci beaucoup
vero
Votre avis mon itinéaire en Afrique du Sud English translation pending
😉 Bonjour à tous,
Ca y est ... On est décidé (entre ce choix cornélien : Kenya ou Afrique du Sud) ... Ce sera South Africa.
Nous avons vu un circuit qui nous paraît attrayant ... votre avis ... Sera le bienvenu.
Circuit 16 jours.
Entre janvier et mars 04 (votre avis sur la période nous interesse beaucoup) Johannesburg : (possibilité d'aller à Gold Reef City ?) Pretoria Parc Kruger (Parc + Parc de Blyde River - Pilgrim's rest) Swaziland Damazulu Parc Hluhluwe Bergville Drakensberg (le parc Royal du Natal) Port Elisabeth (Mossel Bay - Oudthoorn - Nature's Valley - Outeniqua choo-Tjoe train - Featherberd Island) Cape Town (Swellendam - La route des vins - Montagne de la table et le cap de bonne espérance)Ensuite retour ... (Ben! Oui!)
Le circuit peut être précédé par un passage au Zimbabwe (mais alors c'est 20 jours) : Harare Parc National de Matobo Victoria FallsVos expériences sont les bienvenues ...
PS : est-ce qu'au cap ... Il ya moyen d'aller voir les requins ?
Merci et à bientôt, j'espère.
Ca y est ... On est décidé (entre ce choix cornélien : Kenya ou Afrique du Sud) ... Ce sera South Africa.
Nous avons vu un circuit qui nous paraît attrayant ... votre avis ... Sera le bienvenu.
Circuit 16 jours.
Entre janvier et mars 04 (votre avis sur la période nous interesse beaucoup) Johannesburg : (possibilité d'aller à Gold Reef City ?) Pretoria Parc Kruger (Parc + Parc de Blyde River - Pilgrim's rest) Swaziland Damazulu Parc Hluhluwe Bergville Drakensberg (le parc Royal du Natal) Port Elisabeth (Mossel Bay - Oudthoorn - Nature's Valley - Outeniqua choo-Tjoe train - Featherberd Island) Cape Town (Swellendam - La route des vins - Montagne de la table et le cap de bonne espérance)Ensuite retour ... (Ben! Oui!)
Le circuit peut être précédé par un passage au Zimbabwe (mais alors c'est 20 jours) : Harare Parc National de Matobo Victoria FallsVos expériences sont les bienvenues ...
PS : est-ce qu'au cap ... Il ya moyen d'aller voir les requins ?
Merci et à bientôt, j'espère.
Choix d'hôtels sur Cuba? English translation pending
😉 Nous souhaiterons avoir des bons plans pour cuba sur les hotels en paticulier
d'avance merci
d'avance merci
Villages around Hazaribagh in West Bengal
Wednesday, April 1st
Hazaribagh I’ve got a meet-up with Adam Iman, a guide and painter. He picks me up from the hotel at 10 AM. Another traveler from Bangalore is supposed to join us, but while we wait for him to arrive, Adam takes me to see the paintings his mother and sister created at Hazaribagh station. The town became famous thanks to these murals, which can also be found in several surrounding villages. This art form has earned recognition and is now protected, a sign of its cultural importance. Once the visit is over, we go to pick up the other traveler and then head to our first village: Belwara, where Sohrai art is practiced. At the entrance, a sign proudly announces that we’re entering an artists’ village, where this art is created by women organized into micro-enterprises. Some even offer workshops for those who’d like to learn this tradition.

Sohrai art is tied to the harvest season, from October to mid-November. The motifs, in natural colors, celebrate fertility and abundance. The artists use pigments from the earth: red oxides, ochre, white kaolin, and black manganese. On the walls, you’ll see animals, fish, birds—all symbols of life and prosperity. As I look closer at the murals, I start to realize that each motif tells a story. Large animals like cows or bulls often take center stage. Their bodies are filled with intricate, almost hypnotic patterns. They symbolize wealth and prosperity for the household, as well as the deep respect for cattle, which are essential to daily life. On some facades, elephants stand out—massive and decorated with the same precision. They evoke quiet strength and protection. But it’s when I stop in front of one of the houses that I really take the time to look. The wall, a soft ochre, is entirely covered in murals. Two large animals stretch out on either side of the door, their elongated bodies fitting the length of the wall. Their silhouettes are filled with geometric patterns and incredibly fine curved lines, as if every space was patiently filled. Around them, stylized plants, flowers, and small decorative elements fill every gap. The door, dark and worn, becomes almost the silent center of the composition, framed by these living, protective forms. To the right, a more colorful motif catches the eye—a flower or a stylized lamp—like a touch of light on the earth. The whole thing gives an impression of perfect balance, between the rigor of the patterns and the freedom of the gesture.

Elsewhere, birds and freer forms bring movement. Peacocks, recognizable by their stylized silhouettes, embody beauty and vitality, while fish symbolize water, fertility, and the continuity of life.
On some paintings, the scenes become almost narrative: you can make out figures, everyday gestures, like a memory of the village inscribed in the walls. The decorative frames around the doors aren’t left to chance either—they symbolically protect the house, like a boundary between the inside and the outside world.



During the Sohrai festival, cattle are led into the jungle in the morning. Meanwhile, the women finish the *aripans*—these floor paintings—and continue the wall murals. Around noon, the animals return to the village, and the bulls’ horns are anointed with oil and vermilion in a gesture of gratitude, amid the vibrant colors adorning the houses. We visit several artists, including Parvat Devi, a well-known woman who has received many awards. Her arms are adorned with intriguing tattoos, which I’ll talk about in more detail later.

On another wall, the style changes completely. Here, no massive animals—just birds occupying the space, light and graceful, as if caught in mid-movement. Two silhouettes face each other, their long necks arched almost like mirrors, while their outstretched wings seem to vibrate with the patterns that compose them.

The design is more graphic, almost airy. The lines are smoother, more fluid, as if drawn in one confident stroke. The birds’ bodies aren’t solid—they’re filled with repetitive motifs like scales, stylized feathers, and spirals, giving a sense of continuous movement. Around them, everything comes to life: flowers burst open, arabesques swirl, and even the simplest shapes seem alive. What strikes me here is the sense of lightness. Where the large animals evoked stability and grounding, these birds bring something freer, almost joyful. They seem to embody movement, the circulation of life, like a breath flowing through the village.

The colors remain the same—deep reds, intense blacks, and chalky white—but the rhythm is different. Faster, more spontaneous. As if each wall had its own personality, while still speaking the same language.
That’s probably why I’m so moved. I’d heard about these paintings from my friend Raja, and last year, I saw an exhibition in a village near my home. That first encounter made me want to come here. But seeing them in person is a whole different experience. These paintings are unique. This ancient art is passed down from mother to daughter, or mother-in-law to daughter-in-law, in a quiet, deeply living continuity. At first glance, it might seem almost childlike in its simplicity and pared-down forms. And yet, everything is thought out, balanced, mastered. Nothing is left to chance.

That apparent simplicity, combined with such rich symbolism, touches me deeply. There’s something sincere and essential in these walls—and that’s what moves me.
Hazaribagh I’ve got a meet-up with Adam Iman, a guide and painter. He picks me up from the hotel at 10 AM. Another traveler from Bangalore is supposed to join us, but while we wait for him to arrive, Adam takes me to see the paintings his mother and sister created at Hazaribagh station. The town became famous thanks to these murals, which can also be found in several surrounding villages. This art form has earned recognition and is now protected, a sign of its cultural importance. Once the visit is over, we go to pick up the other traveler and then head to our first village: Belwara, where Sohrai art is practiced. At the entrance, a sign proudly announces that we’re entering an artists’ village, where this art is created by women organized into micro-enterprises. Some even offer workshops for those who’d like to learn this tradition.

Sohrai art is tied to the harvest season, from October to mid-November. The motifs, in natural colors, celebrate fertility and abundance. The artists use pigments from the earth: red oxides, ochre, white kaolin, and black manganese. On the walls, you’ll see animals, fish, birds—all symbols of life and prosperity. As I look closer at the murals, I start to realize that each motif tells a story. Large animals like cows or bulls often take center stage. Their bodies are filled with intricate, almost hypnotic patterns. They symbolize wealth and prosperity for the household, as well as the deep respect for cattle, which are essential to daily life. On some facades, elephants stand out—massive and decorated with the same precision. They evoke quiet strength and protection. But it’s when I stop in front of one of the houses that I really take the time to look. The wall, a soft ochre, is entirely covered in murals. Two large animals stretch out on either side of the door, their elongated bodies fitting the length of the wall. Their silhouettes are filled with geometric patterns and incredibly fine curved lines, as if every space was patiently filled. Around them, stylized plants, flowers, and small decorative elements fill every gap. The door, dark and worn, becomes almost the silent center of the composition, framed by these living, protective forms. To the right, a more colorful motif catches the eye—a flower or a stylized lamp—like a touch of light on the earth. The whole thing gives an impression of perfect balance, between the rigor of the patterns and the freedom of the gesture.

Elsewhere, birds and freer forms bring movement. Peacocks, recognizable by their stylized silhouettes, embody beauty and vitality, while fish symbolize water, fertility, and the continuity of life.
On some paintings, the scenes become almost narrative: you can make out figures, everyday gestures, like a memory of the village inscribed in the walls. The decorative frames around the doors aren’t left to chance either—they symbolically protect the house, like a boundary between the inside and the outside world.


During the Sohrai festival, cattle are led into the jungle in the morning. Meanwhile, the women finish the *aripans*—these floor paintings—and continue the wall murals. Around noon, the animals return to the village, and the bulls’ horns are anointed with oil and vermilion in a gesture of gratitude, amid the vibrant colors adorning the houses. We visit several artists, including Parvat Devi, a well-known woman who has received many awards. Her arms are adorned with intriguing tattoos, which I’ll talk about in more detail later.

On another wall, the style changes completely. Here, no massive animals—just birds occupying the space, light and graceful, as if caught in mid-movement. Two silhouettes face each other, their long necks arched almost like mirrors, while their outstretched wings seem to vibrate with the patterns that compose them.

The design is more graphic, almost airy. The lines are smoother, more fluid, as if drawn in one confident stroke. The birds’ bodies aren’t solid—they’re filled with repetitive motifs like scales, stylized feathers, and spirals, giving a sense of continuous movement. Around them, everything comes to life: flowers burst open, arabesques swirl, and even the simplest shapes seem alive. What strikes me here is the sense of lightness. Where the large animals evoked stability and grounding, these birds bring something freer, almost joyful. They seem to embody movement, the circulation of life, like a breath flowing through the village.

The colors remain the same—deep reds, intense blacks, and chalky white—but the rhythm is different. Faster, more spontaneous. As if each wall had its own personality, while still speaking the same language.
That’s probably why I’m so moved. I’d heard about these paintings from my friend Raja, and last year, I saw an exhibition in a village near my home. That first encounter made me want to come here. But seeing them in person is a whole different experience. These paintings are unique. This ancient art is passed down from mother to daughter, or mother-in-law to daughter-in-law, in a quiet, deeply living continuity. At first glance, it might seem almost childlike in its simplicity and pared-down forms. And yet, everything is thought out, balanced, mastered. Nothing is left to chance.

That apparent simplicity, combined with such rich symbolism, touches me deeply. There’s something sincere and essential in these walls—and that’s what moves me.
Visit ideas around Ajaccio and Porto-Vecchio
Hi everyone,
I’m heading to Corsica for 12 days:
- One week in Ajaccio
- One week in Porto-Vecchio
I’m renting a car at Ajaccio airport.
Any special visit ideas?
Thanks
September 2026 Photo Contest Theme: "The Street as a Livelihood"
Good evening to all you photographers and photo enthusiasts on VF,
So, I’ve chosen this month’s theme: "The Street as a Livelihood". The photos we’re looking for are street scenes showing people who use the street as a place to earn a living—whether it’s legal work, informal jobs, illegal activities, or begging.
The rules:
- Photo submissions until Thursday, September 24 at 11:59 PM (Paris time) You can post up to 3 photos, numbered and posted in separate messages, ideally with a short description of the location and the story behind it.
- Voting from Friday, September 25 at 12:01 AM to Tuesday, September 29 at 11:59 PM. After the deadline, it’s too late! Please indicate the photo number, the username, and the points awarded: Photo #1 = 3 pts Photo #2 = 2 pts Photo #3 = 1 pt
- All VF members can vote (even those who didn’t submit photos).
- In case of a tie for first place, the winning photo will be the one with the most first-place votes, then second-place votes!
- The lucky winner will not only earn the admiration of all September’s photo contest participants but will also get the privilege of choosing the theme and organizing October 2026’s photo contest.
For discussions about the theme, head over here: Discussion thread for September 2026’s theme: "The Street as a Livelihood"
Wishing you all some amazing shots!
So, I’ve chosen this month’s theme: "The Street as a Livelihood". The photos we’re looking for are street scenes showing people who use the street as a place to earn a living—whether it’s legal work, informal jobs, illegal activities, or begging.

The rules:
- Photo submissions until Thursday, September 24 at 11:59 PM (Paris time) You can post up to 3 photos, numbered and posted in separate messages, ideally with a short description of the location and the story behind it.
- Voting from Friday, September 25 at 12:01 AM to Tuesday, September 29 at 11:59 PM. After the deadline, it’s too late! Please indicate the photo number, the username, and the points awarded: Photo #1 = 3 pts Photo #2 = 2 pts Photo #3 = 1 pt
- All VF members can vote (even those who didn’t submit photos).
- In case of a tie for first place, the winning photo will be the one with the most first-place votes, then second-place votes!
- The lucky winner will not only earn the admiration of all September’s photo contest participants but will also get the privilege of choosing the theme and organizing October 2026’s photo contest.
For discussions about the theme, head over here: Discussion thread for September 2026’s theme: "The Street as a Livelihood"
Wishing you all some amazing shots!
Looking for accommodation in Tarrafal
Hello Community!
Back and happy to see this site resurfacing after the precious help I’ve gathered here before!
Today, the family has grown, and we’re looking for accommodation for 5 (2 adults, 3 kids) in Tarrafal to spend New Year’s… any ideas for a memorable stay? Guesthouse or hotel…
Off on an adventure in Réunion!
Week 1 - July 2026
Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?

So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?

For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.







Traveling with just one spare pair of underwear, considering a hot shower a miracle, never staying in the same place too long by sleeping wherever night catches us, taking whatever local, improbable, and rickety transport we can find—this is the DNA of us wanderers. Except this time, the script for our movie is going to be a whole different genre. On paper, the destination doesn’t exactly scream epic adventure: Réunion! And what’s more... we won’t be two, or four, or even ten. We’ll be a solid thirty. All from the same family. Yes, thirty. At this point, it’s not just a trip—it’s a summer camp on the move! Why inflict this on such a peaceful island? Because my brother decided to get married there with his lovely bride. A great idea, you might say... especially when it involves relocating the equivalent of a small Ardennes village 10,000 kilometers from home for three weeks! So who’s stepping up to be the guide and wave the little flag?

So, for an exceptional trip, exceptional stories! Don’t worry, the debates at the supermarket over whether to choose plain chips or roast chicken chips, the beach picnics washed down with ti’ punch, and other rougail sausages to digest by the pool will only make it into the family archives. Here, I’ll stick to the tales of our beautiful escapes, the ones where we explore the wild corners of this little volcanic rock planted in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So where exactly are we headed?

For the first week—the subject of this first installment—we’re taking it easy. We’ll start by rediscovering the coastline, from the Souffleur in Saint-Leu to the Hermitage lagoon, before a little trip to the Cirque de Cilaos and its legendary road with 400 turns, just to get our legs warmed up.







Adventure from La Cure to La Chaux-de-Fonds on foot with a dog
Hello, I’d like to embark on a little trip in my home country, Switzerland. I’ll start walking from La Cure, heading toward Le Noirmont first, then I’ll improvise my route—but it’ll probably follow the French border... at least as far as Lac de Joux.
I’ll decide day by day how much farther to go after that. My goal is to stay in nature as much as possible, wander around for as long as I can, and restock food in villages or towns along the way.
I’m thinking of mostly camping, but we’ll see if I end up in a hotel or another campsite depending on my route.
I’d love to reach La Chaux-de-Fonds on foot... maybe even Delémont. The whole thing should take about a week, give or take.
I’ll be bringing my dog, and I’m preparing for this as soon as I’m ready.
Any tips to make sure everything goes smoothly for us? Things I should know—or avoid? What about shepherds with their flocks of sheep? And isn’t hunting season open right now?
I’m not sure if what I’m planning is even doable, which is why I’m asking around.
This’ll be my first time doing something like this—wandering in nature *and* with a dog. I’m really excited for this adventure... and I need it. Thanks!
I’ll decide day by day how much farther to go after that. My goal is to stay in nature as much as possible, wander around for as long as I can, and restock food in villages or towns along the way.
I’m thinking of mostly camping, but we’ll see if I end up in a hotel or another campsite depending on my route.
I’d love to reach La Chaux-de-Fonds on foot... maybe even Delémont. The whole thing should take about a week, give or take.
I’ll be bringing my dog, and I’m preparing for this as soon as I’m ready.
Any tips to make sure everything goes smoothly for us? Things I should know—or avoid? What about shepherds with their flocks of sheep? And isn’t hunting season open right now?
I’m not sure if what I’m planning is even doable, which is why I’m asking around.
This’ll be my first time doing something like this—wandering in nature *and* with a dog. I’m really excited for this adventure... and I need it. Thanks!
Off on a winter adventure in the American West!
Day 1 – February 14
We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?


We all have two lives. And the second one kicks off the day you realize you only have one, with the determination to spend the time you have left on what truly adds sparkle to your life, Kevin! I like to elegantly introduce a trip with a philosophical quote. First, it gives you the illusion that I’m some kind of deep thinker, and second, it lets me fill up the first few lines of my blank page when I don’t know how to tell you I’m diving back into what really lights up my life: another adventure beyond the horizon! And nearly every other year, like a toxic relationship, my horizon tends to take shape in Uncle Sam’s backyard. And this, despite his cousin Donald calling the shots. Speaking of which, it was partly that impulsive guy who pushed us to be just as impulsive and snag our four flight tickets at a ridiculously low price—a direct result of foreign tourism taking a hit from BetaMax’s repeated antics... Four tickets? Who are the other lucky ones? In this case, our lucky ones are actually lucky ladies: My Flo, always up for exploring the world with me on foot, camelback, or scooter, is obviously in on the fun. The other two seats went to our daughters, Sasha and Luna, both thrilled to be part of this new American adventure...
But what’s the American West like in February?... A gamble. Let’s call it Russian roulette since we’re not landing during peak weather season. That’s why we encouraged our transportation and accommodation to get cozy and produce a little camper van, so we can stay ultra-flexible in the face of any weather tantrums. We’ll be roaming in Kara the van with the motto "Follow the sun!" Bad weather? We bolt. Snow? We speed up. Sunny? We act like it was the plan all along and soak it up.
"Okay, but why keep coming back to the same corner of the globe? After ten American adventures, you must be tired of seeing the same things, right?" But I’m not crazy, you know!... The American West is like making love to your gorgeous wife over and over, always enjoying it just as much. And contrary to what you might think, the American West isn’t just the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Las Vegas, and Bryce Canyon. Proof is, after ten trips to the U.S., my retinas are still untouched by three-quarters of the places I scribbled on a napkin for this adventure... Oh, and add to that my wife, who I’ve easily converted to my religion, and boom... relapse is even easier! Because yes, we’ve landed in Los Angeles after a sunny flight over Greenland, still under Danish flag for now. And we’re already heading east through the XXL traffic of L.A.’s eight-lane highways, eager to dive into our first discoveries. But first, night is taking over the sky, and second, we’ve been officially awake for 24 hours, so I suggest wrapping up this intro. I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning. Sound good?


Our road trip through the American Southwest for summer 2026
Hello! The itinerary is pretty much set for August 2026. Yeah, I know it’s gonna be *super* hot. But it’s the only time we can get away.
So, here’s the plan: Montpellier-CDG-Dallas.
Stay from July 31 to August 26, 2026: Car rental – check, Hotels – check, Itinerary – almost check, Photo gear – check, Budget – check, 🤪 Meal planning – meh, we’ll see... Walmart, of course, for the cooler when we arrive.
And now, without too much detail...
Fort Worth: The Longhorns and the Stockyards; JR’s ranch (for the missus); Medal of Honor Museum – Arlington.
Houston and NASA Space Center: See the Gulf of Mexico/America.
San Antonio and the missions.
Fort Stockton for an overnight stop.
El Paso via Guadalupe Mountains: El Paso and White Sands.
Tucson and the Pima Air & Space Museum: Tombstone, Bisbee.
Phoenix:
Still working on the program.
Sedona: Round trip around the area via Flagstaff and Williams, or the Grand Canyon (already done) – we’ll decide on the spot.
Albuquerque: Santa Fe, Turquoise Trail, Los Alamos.
Amarillo via Route 66: Old Route 66 in the city; Big Texas Ranch Steak 😏.
Dallas: JFK Museum; Perot Museum; West End district.
And through it all – the road, the road, and more road!!!
We’ll adapt day by day based on our mental and physical state (we’re not exactly spring chickens).
Return to France: Dallas-Montpellier via CDG.
Cheers!
So, here’s the plan: Montpellier-CDG-Dallas.
Stay from July 31 to August 26, 2026: Car rental – check, Hotels – check, Itinerary – almost check, Photo gear – check, Budget – check, 🤪 Meal planning – meh, we’ll see... Walmart, of course, for the cooler when we arrive.
And now, without too much detail...
Fort Worth: The Longhorns and the Stockyards; JR’s ranch (for the missus); Medal of Honor Museum – Arlington.
Houston and NASA Space Center: See the Gulf of Mexico/America.
San Antonio and the missions.
Fort Stockton for an overnight stop.
El Paso via Guadalupe Mountains: El Paso and White Sands.
Tucson and the Pima Air & Space Museum: Tombstone, Bisbee.
Phoenix:
Still working on the program.
Sedona: Round trip around the area via Flagstaff and Williams, or the Grand Canyon (already done) – we’ll decide on the spot.
Albuquerque: Santa Fe, Turquoise Trail, Los Alamos.
Amarillo via Route 66: Old Route 66 in the city; Big Texas Ranch Steak 😏.
Dallas: JFK Museum; Perot Museum; West End district.
And through it all – the road, the road, and more road!!!
We’ll adapt day by day based on our mental and physical state (we’re not exactly spring chickens).
Return to France: Dallas-Montpellier via CDG.
Cheers!
Africa: A Heartfelt Love for a Continent
“When the Whites came to Africa, we had the land and they had the Bible. They taught us to pray with our eyes closed: when we opened them, the Whites had the land and we had the Bible.” Jomo Kenyatta (p.7)
The Maggi cube, an unchallenged hegemony, and so much more
“The hopeless continent,” headlined The Economist, a British magazine, in July 2000 about Africa. Eleven years later, the same magazine headlined “Africa rising” instead. Images of Africa in the prosperous North constantly oscillate between apocalyptic scenarios and enthusiastic projections. A key issue with such images lies in the generalization they entail. If you look at the continent, considerable contrasts emerge depending on space and time. It’s no surprise that a region of the world encompassing such diverse ecological zones, maintaining such varied ties with other continents, comprising nearly fifty nation-states in sub-Saharan Africa alone, and characterized by a great diversity of languages, belief systems, and historical paths, doesn’t share a single destiny.
And yet, for many people outside Africa, as well as for many Africans, the continent constitutes a single entity, defined by criteria such as skin color, a colonial past, poverty, and the art of survival. Until now, these perspectives were generally accompanied by the idea that Africa had to—or should have—followed a single path together, sometimes called development, sometimes modernization, sometimes liberation, then a market economy. None of these paths delivered on their promises.
The two writers Alain Mabanckou and Abdourahman Waberi—one from Congo, the other raised in Djibouti, both long settled in France and now professors at renowned North American universities (Los Angeles, Washington)—have had enough of pessimistic scenarios: “We are aware that Africa is in the world and the world is in Africa. The same goes for all other continents, as our destinies are inextricably linked for better or worse. We refuse to see Africa as a reservoir of misfortunes or a continent cursed by atavistic misfortune and characterized by ethnic conflicts. [...] It’s this passionate flame we wanted to capture in a book [...] a kind of stroll through African cultures, without any demands, each letter of the alphabet leading us to a notion, a practice, a concept, a moment in history, literature, painting, politics, economics, cuisine, etc.” (p.10-11). Africa, they write, is on the verge of “imposing a signature, a style, a way of being in the world and in relation to the rest of the world.” (p.11) To put words to the continent’s diversity and dynamism, the two authors created a “rambling ABC,” a kind of portrait—or more precisely, a mythography—that lets you see and feel the pulse of a vast continent whose cultural power is unfolding before our eyes. Once marginalized or even mocked, the voice and importance of the Continent in global affairs are now undeniable” (p.11), containing over a hundred entries, mostly concise, written in a relaxed and casual style. The optimistic, even exuberant tone is set from the brief introduction. The duo of authors wants to “sing a love song to the cultures of our continent, to its inhabitants past and present, to its exceptional resources and its spectacular globalization despite a certain pollution that still clouds our skies due to the unmatched duration of dictatorships in some of our regions.” (p.12) In doing so, they don’t want to be too distracted by today’s Afewerki-Biya-Bongo-Déby & Co. ...
Of course, you’ll find tributes to great precursors like Frantz Fanon (“[...] it was a love story and admiration that wasn’t dimmed by the four decades separating his birth from ours. Let’s add that we were born while the native of Fort-de-France had left the world’s stage four years earlier, in the prime of life” p.141), Mongo Beti (“You must read and reread Mongo Beti, a genius who used his fame to support often just causes in Africa, like defending oppressed groups. His place is already in History. His oppressors, like the dictators Ahmadou Ahidjo and Paul Biya, can’t compete in the same category” p.64), the Malian Amadou Hampâté Bâ
(“Posterity remembers him mainly as an tireless defender of African cultures. His plea for the collection and preservation of traditional African knowledge remains a major event for all men and women of good will. One day in 1960, at the UNESCO podium, the native of Bandiagara sounded the alarm: ‘[...] Since we’ve admitted that the humanity of each people is the heritage of all humanity, if African traditions aren’t collected in time and written down, they’ll one day be missing from the universal archives of humanity.’” p.51),
Kwame Nkrumah, “one of the founders of Pan-Africanism, father of Ghana’s independence” (p.239), as well as the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, the writer, poet, and politician Aimé Césaire, and the economist and thinker Samir Amin, but also very warm tributes to certain contemporary African intellectuals like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe
(“A few years ago, in dominant economic circles, a rumor often resurfaced, usually disguised as a cold and scientifically proven analysis: Africa is useless. It’s a burden for the rest of the human community. With its 2% share in world trade, it would disappear from stock market radars without anyone noticing. So? Maybe it’ll be pulled up by other continents. Wanting to surpass itself is a crazy bet for Africans, they concluded. Arrogant or clueless, President Nicolas Sarkozy declared before an audience of students and teachers at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar: ‘The African man hasn’t entered history enough [...] He only knows the eternal repetition of time marked by the endless repetition of the same gestures and words.’ That was in 2007. For decades, armed only with reason, an intellectual often steps up to debunk prejudices, lazy readings, and dishonest frameworks used as false fronts by those who, like Nicolas Sarkozy or former journalist Stephen Smith, out of ignorance, contempt, or condescension, distort African reality. This intellectual is none other than the historian and political scientist Achille Mbembe. This heir of Frantz Fanon, Amílcar Cabral, Jean-Marc Ela, and Fabien Eboussi-Boulaga was born in 1957 in Cameroon, in the Bassa region. Marked early by the upheavals of a fratricidal war, Achille Mbembe became the guardian of the memory of martyrs. After brilliant studies in Paris, he went on to teach at the best American universities, but the call of the Continent was stronger than anything else. In Dakar, he once directed CODESRIA (Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa) before joining the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Even though the author of *Critique of Black Reason* (Éditions La Découverte, 2015) spends a few months at Duke University in North Carolina, his observation post remains South Africa. From Johannesburg, Achille Mbembe scrutinizes Africa and the whole world. A lucid observer with an elegant and generous pen, Achille Mbembe knows how to blend big and small history: ‘I was born one day in July, as the month was drawing to a close. It was 1957, in that part of Africa recently named ‘Cameroon,’ a memory of the wonder that seized Portuguese sailors in the 15th century when, sailing up the river near Douala, they couldn’t help but note the presence of a multitude of crustaceans, and named it *Rio dos Camarões*, meaning ‘River of Shrimp.’ I grew up in the shadow of this nameless land, since, in a way, the name it bears is only the product of someone else’s astonishment: a lexical mistake, if you will.’ From this mistake or wound, he made leaven, a springboard to compose a rich work, recognized worldwide. To denounce barriers and barbarians too. But that’s not enough. Among his peers in circles of thought and action, Achille Mbembe passionately and consistently defends human dignity and the beauty of the world. In doing so, he fulfills the mission Frantz Fanon entrusted to him.” (p.227-229),
as well as entries dedicated to lesser-known artists and intellectuals, like the French journalist and activist Rokhaya Diallo, daughter of Senegalese and Gambian parents, or the Ethiopian filmmaker Haile Gerima, who has long lived in the United States. Other names from politics, sports, music, art, and literature: Kofi Annan, p.36; Barack Obama, p.243; Thomas Sankara, p.277; Ousmane Sow, p.285; Yambo Ouologuem, p.250; Léopold Sédar Senghor, p.282; Muhammad Ali, p.30; Nuruddin Farah, p.146; Salif Keita, p.203; Ahmadou Kourouma, p.206; Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, p.236; Winnie Mandela, p.224; Kylian Mbappé, p.226 ...
The authors, who resolutely commit to a “mythography” (p.11) of Africa, also pay special attention to local social movements, cultural events, and aspects of daily life. *Y’en a marre*, “which also meant ‘we’re fed up with sitting on our hands’” (p.320-321), emerged about a decade ago in Senegal as a citizen movement of peaceful resistance and symbolizes, the authors emphasize, the fact that African youth are increasingly fed up “with the political circus deployed in Africa since independence, as our parents would say, ‘since the White man left’...” (p.321). A full entry is dedicated to the Maggi bouillon cube, which has flooded African markets for about forty years and enjoys immense popularity (“It’s everywhere in Africa, from Dakar to Djibouti, and from Tangier to Cape Town. It’s in every pot, every stew. Little hands put it in every sauce, every local or adapted dish. An unchallenged hegemony! You’ll find it in diasporas too. The culinary strolls in Paris, in the [...] neighborhood” p.90). Critics blame it not only for impoverishing the aromatic diversity of local dishes but also for being harmful to health. And yet, “he poorest Africans, those who eat only once a day, a few spoonfuls of white beans and a ball of *foufou*, for example, are the most fervent users of the magic cube.” (p.92-93)
For *fonio*, “the new trendy cereal. [...] From the millet family, fonio is probably the oldest cereal cultivated in West Africa, and mainly in its sub-Saharan part, for millennia. [...] Easy to grow, water-efficient, fonio grows everywhere except on clay soils. Long neglected because it was considered the poor man’s crop, fonio is now a source of pride for the farmers who cultivate it and cherish it like the apple of their eye” (p.156-157), the authors immediately offer a detailed recipe, letting the reader know that “e can’t resist sharing this fonio with chicken recipe from Mali with you:
Ingredients: 1 chicken 3 large ripe red tomatoes 4 tbsp tomato paste 4 large onions 1 garlic clove 1/2 cup oil 2 Maggi cubes or salt 2 large carrots 1 turnip 1 large cabbage 2 large potatoes 1 celery stalk 1 packet pre-cooked fonio 4 okra (or okra powder) salt, pepper
Preparation: 1. Prepare the sauce: wash and cut the chicken. Peel the onions, garlic, and vegetables. 2. In a pot, fry the chicken pieces. 3. Dice the onions, tomatoes, carrots, and turnip very small and add them to the pot. 4. Add the tomato paste, salt, and pepper. 5. Simmer for 15 min, then add 2 L of water and the cooked chicken pieces. 6. Simmer for 30 min, then add the crushed garlic and celery, plus the cabbage cut into 4 and the potatoes cut in half. 7. Prepare the fonio: cover it with warm water, let it rest for 15 min, and cook it over low heat. 8. In a small pot, boil the okra and crush them. 9. Mix the crushed okra with the cooked fonio, then salt. Serve hot.” (p.158-159)
The comedy *Black Mic Mac*, released in French theaters in 1986 and addressing France’s increasingly restrictive immigration policy at the time, also gets an entry, as do *Tintin in the Congo*, the popular comic, and *Jip’s Café* (“[...] a little Africa in the heart of Paris, with passersby stopping to admire the ‘ambianceurs’ on the dance floor or attend the cultural events offered by the place” (p.194), an African establishment in Paris that Alain Mabanckou already immortalized in one of his novels.
The duo of authors also tackles thorny subjects like jihadism (p.119), the Rwandan genocide (p.272), the CFA franc (p.82), and dictatorship (p.110). While the two strike the right tone here, many entries leave a slightly bitter taste. Two examples: why doesn’t the text on Barack Obama mention the great disappointment of many people in Africa, who expected more from the African policy of the first U.S. president with African roots than just occasional warm words? Why do the comments on Winnie Mandela gloss over the fact that she was a highly controversial icon of the anti-apartheid movement due to her involvement in kidnappings, acts of torture, and murders of alleged apartheid collaborators? Instead, there’s a compassion that brings tears to the eyes: “She was often reduced to a secondary role, the wife of a great man” or “When victory came, she didn’t taste its fruits. Divorced, isolated. She would never be a ‘first lady’ in an evening gown, posing before a bed of chrysanthemums. They’d keep her far from the circles of power” (p.224-225). At this point, I would’ve liked the authors to take a slightly more critical stance...
That said, these “weaknesses” (if you can call them that) shouldn’t overshadow the book as a whole. It remains an informative, sometimes very entertaining, and often even original work in its own way.
Book information (the original French and the German translation):
Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Dictionnaire enjoué des cultures africaines. Fayard, 2019. Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Der Puls Afrikas. Eine Liebeserklärung von A bis Z. Reclam, 2022.
Hery
The Maggi cube, an unchallenged hegemony, and so much more
“The hopeless continent,” headlined The Economist, a British magazine, in July 2000 about Africa. Eleven years later, the same magazine headlined “Africa rising” instead. Images of Africa in the prosperous North constantly oscillate between apocalyptic scenarios and enthusiastic projections. A key issue with such images lies in the generalization they entail. If you look at the continent, considerable contrasts emerge depending on space and time. It’s no surprise that a region of the world encompassing such diverse ecological zones, maintaining such varied ties with other continents, comprising nearly fifty nation-states in sub-Saharan Africa alone, and characterized by a great diversity of languages, belief systems, and historical paths, doesn’t share a single destiny.
And yet, for many people outside Africa, as well as for many Africans, the continent constitutes a single entity, defined by criteria such as skin color, a colonial past, poverty, and the art of survival. Until now, these perspectives were generally accompanied by the idea that Africa had to—or should have—followed a single path together, sometimes called development, sometimes modernization, sometimes liberation, then a market economy. None of these paths delivered on their promises.
The two writers Alain Mabanckou and Abdourahman Waberi—one from Congo, the other raised in Djibouti, both long settled in France and now professors at renowned North American universities (Los Angeles, Washington)—have had enough of pessimistic scenarios: “We are aware that Africa is in the world and the world is in Africa. The same goes for all other continents, as our destinies are inextricably linked for better or worse. We refuse to see Africa as a reservoir of misfortunes or a continent cursed by atavistic misfortune and characterized by ethnic conflicts. [...] It’s this passionate flame we wanted to capture in a book [...] a kind of stroll through African cultures, without any demands, each letter of the alphabet leading us to a notion, a practice, a concept, a moment in history, literature, painting, politics, economics, cuisine, etc.” (p.10-11). Africa, they write, is on the verge of “imposing a signature, a style, a way of being in the world and in relation to the rest of the world.” (p.11) To put words to the continent’s diversity and dynamism, the two authors created a “rambling ABC,” a kind of portrait—or more precisely, a mythography—that lets you see and feel the pulse of a vast continent whose cultural power is unfolding before our eyes. Once marginalized or even mocked, the voice and importance of the Continent in global affairs are now undeniable” (p.11), containing over a hundred entries, mostly concise, written in a relaxed and casual style. The optimistic, even exuberant tone is set from the brief introduction. The duo of authors wants to “sing a love song to the cultures of our continent, to its inhabitants past and present, to its exceptional resources and its spectacular globalization despite a certain pollution that still clouds our skies due to the unmatched duration of dictatorships in some of our regions.” (p.12) In doing so, they don’t want to be too distracted by today’s Afewerki-Biya-Bongo-Déby & Co. ...
Of course, you’ll find tributes to great precursors like Frantz Fanon (“[...] it was a love story and admiration that wasn’t dimmed by the four decades separating his birth from ours. Let’s add that we were born while the native of Fort-de-France had left the world’s stage four years earlier, in the prime of life” p.141), Mongo Beti (“You must read and reread Mongo Beti, a genius who used his fame to support often just causes in Africa, like defending oppressed groups. His place is already in History. His oppressors, like the dictators Ahmadou Ahidjo and Paul Biya, can’t compete in the same category” p.64), the Malian Amadou Hampâté Bâ
(“Posterity remembers him mainly as an tireless defender of African cultures. His plea for the collection and preservation of traditional African knowledge remains a major event for all men and women of good will. One day in 1960, at the UNESCO podium, the native of Bandiagara sounded the alarm: ‘[...] Since we’ve admitted that the humanity of each people is the heritage of all humanity, if African traditions aren’t collected in time and written down, they’ll one day be missing from the universal archives of humanity.’” p.51),
Kwame Nkrumah, “one of the founders of Pan-Africanism, father of Ghana’s independence” (p.239), as well as the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, the writer, poet, and politician Aimé Césaire, and the economist and thinker Samir Amin, but also very warm tributes to certain contemporary African intellectuals like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe
(“A few years ago, in dominant economic circles, a rumor often resurfaced, usually disguised as a cold and scientifically proven analysis: Africa is useless. It’s a burden for the rest of the human community. With its 2% share in world trade, it would disappear from stock market radars without anyone noticing. So? Maybe it’ll be pulled up by other continents. Wanting to surpass itself is a crazy bet for Africans, they concluded. Arrogant or clueless, President Nicolas Sarkozy declared before an audience of students and teachers at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar: ‘The African man hasn’t entered history enough [...] He only knows the eternal repetition of time marked by the endless repetition of the same gestures and words.’ That was in 2007. For decades, armed only with reason, an intellectual often steps up to debunk prejudices, lazy readings, and dishonest frameworks used as false fronts by those who, like Nicolas Sarkozy or former journalist Stephen Smith, out of ignorance, contempt, or condescension, distort African reality. This intellectual is none other than the historian and political scientist Achille Mbembe. This heir of Frantz Fanon, Amílcar Cabral, Jean-Marc Ela, and Fabien Eboussi-Boulaga was born in 1957 in Cameroon, in the Bassa region. Marked early by the upheavals of a fratricidal war, Achille Mbembe became the guardian of the memory of martyrs. After brilliant studies in Paris, he went on to teach at the best American universities, but the call of the Continent was stronger than anything else. In Dakar, he once directed CODESRIA (Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa) before joining the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Even though the author of *Critique of Black Reason* (Éditions La Découverte, 2015) spends a few months at Duke University in North Carolina, his observation post remains South Africa. From Johannesburg, Achille Mbembe scrutinizes Africa and the whole world. A lucid observer with an elegant and generous pen, Achille Mbembe knows how to blend big and small history: ‘I was born one day in July, as the month was drawing to a close. It was 1957, in that part of Africa recently named ‘Cameroon,’ a memory of the wonder that seized Portuguese sailors in the 15th century when, sailing up the river near Douala, they couldn’t help but note the presence of a multitude of crustaceans, and named it *Rio dos Camarões*, meaning ‘River of Shrimp.’ I grew up in the shadow of this nameless land, since, in a way, the name it bears is only the product of someone else’s astonishment: a lexical mistake, if you will.’ From this mistake or wound, he made leaven, a springboard to compose a rich work, recognized worldwide. To denounce barriers and barbarians too. But that’s not enough. Among his peers in circles of thought and action, Achille Mbembe passionately and consistently defends human dignity and the beauty of the world. In doing so, he fulfills the mission Frantz Fanon entrusted to him.” (p.227-229),
as well as entries dedicated to lesser-known artists and intellectuals, like the French journalist and activist Rokhaya Diallo, daughter of Senegalese and Gambian parents, or the Ethiopian filmmaker Haile Gerima, who has long lived in the United States. Other names from politics, sports, music, art, and literature: Kofi Annan, p.36; Barack Obama, p.243; Thomas Sankara, p.277; Ousmane Sow, p.285; Yambo Ouologuem, p.250; Léopold Sédar Senghor, p.282; Muhammad Ali, p.30; Nuruddin Farah, p.146; Salif Keita, p.203; Ahmadou Kourouma, p.206; Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, p.236; Winnie Mandela, p.224; Kylian Mbappé, p.226 ...
The authors, who resolutely commit to a “mythography” (p.11) of Africa, also pay special attention to local social movements, cultural events, and aspects of daily life. *Y’en a marre*, “which also meant ‘we’re fed up with sitting on our hands’” (p.320-321), emerged about a decade ago in Senegal as a citizen movement of peaceful resistance and symbolizes, the authors emphasize, the fact that African youth are increasingly fed up “with the political circus deployed in Africa since independence, as our parents would say, ‘since the White man left’...” (p.321). A full entry is dedicated to the Maggi bouillon cube, which has flooded African markets for about forty years and enjoys immense popularity (“It’s everywhere in Africa, from Dakar to Djibouti, and from Tangier to Cape Town. It’s in every pot, every stew. Little hands put it in every sauce, every local or adapted dish. An unchallenged hegemony! You’ll find it in diasporas too. The culinary strolls in Paris, in the [...] neighborhood” p.90). Critics blame it not only for impoverishing the aromatic diversity of local dishes but also for being harmful to health. And yet, “he poorest Africans, those who eat only once a day, a few spoonfuls of white beans and a ball of *foufou*, for example, are the most fervent users of the magic cube.” (p.92-93)
For *fonio*, “the new trendy cereal. [...] From the millet family, fonio is probably the oldest cereal cultivated in West Africa, and mainly in its sub-Saharan part, for millennia. [...] Easy to grow, water-efficient, fonio grows everywhere except on clay soils. Long neglected because it was considered the poor man’s crop, fonio is now a source of pride for the farmers who cultivate it and cherish it like the apple of their eye” (p.156-157), the authors immediately offer a detailed recipe, letting the reader know that “e can’t resist sharing this fonio with chicken recipe from Mali with you:
Ingredients: 1 chicken 3 large ripe red tomatoes 4 tbsp tomato paste 4 large onions 1 garlic clove 1/2 cup oil 2 Maggi cubes or salt 2 large carrots 1 turnip 1 large cabbage 2 large potatoes 1 celery stalk 1 packet pre-cooked fonio 4 okra (or okra powder) salt, pepper
Preparation: 1. Prepare the sauce: wash and cut the chicken. Peel the onions, garlic, and vegetables. 2. In a pot, fry the chicken pieces. 3. Dice the onions, tomatoes, carrots, and turnip very small and add them to the pot. 4. Add the tomato paste, salt, and pepper. 5. Simmer for 15 min, then add 2 L of water and the cooked chicken pieces. 6. Simmer for 30 min, then add the crushed garlic and celery, plus the cabbage cut into 4 and the potatoes cut in half. 7. Prepare the fonio: cover it with warm water, let it rest for 15 min, and cook it over low heat. 8. In a small pot, boil the okra and crush them. 9. Mix the crushed okra with the cooked fonio, then salt. Serve hot.” (p.158-159)
The comedy *Black Mic Mac*, released in French theaters in 1986 and addressing France’s increasingly restrictive immigration policy at the time, also gets an entry, as do *Tintin in the Congo*, the popular comic, and *Jip’s Café* (“[...] a little Africa in the heart of Paris, with passersby stopping to admire the ‘ambianceurs’ on the dance floor or attend the cultural events offered by the place” (p.194), an African establishment in Paris that Alain Mabanckou already immortalized in one of his novels.
The duo of authors also tackles thorny subjects like jihadism (p.119), the Rwandan genocide (p.272), the CFA franc (p.82), and dictatorship (p.110). While the two strike the right tone here, many entries leave a slightly bitter taste. Two examples: why doesn’t the text on Barack Obama mention the great disappointment of many people in Africa, who expected more from the African policy of the first U.S. president with African roots than just occasional warm words? Why do the comments on Winnie Mandela gloss over the fact that she was a highly controversial icon of the anti-apartheid movement due to her involvement in kidnappings, acts of torture, and murders of alleged apartheid collaborators? Instead, there’s a compassion that brings tears to the eyes: “She was often reduced to a secondary role, the wife of a great man” or “When victory came, she didn’t taste its fruits. Divorced, isolated. She would never be a ‘first lady’ in an evening gown, posing before a bed of chrysanthemums. They’d keep her far from the circles of power” (p.224-225). At this point, I would’ve liked the authors to take a slightly more critical stance...
That said, these “weaknesses” (if you can call them that) shouldn’t overshadow the book as a whole. It remains an informative, sometimes very entertaining, and often even original work in its own way.
Book information (the original French and the German translation):
Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Dictionnaire enjoué des cultures africaines. Fayard, 2019. Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Der Puls Afrikas. Eine Liebeserklärung von A bis Z. Reclam, 2022.
Hery

Storm in the Canary Islands
15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
Gran Canaria... a trip that wasn't exactly thrilling
Okay, it wasn’t a total disaster either. Actually, I hesitated before starting this travel journal: is it even worth writing about a holiday that won’t leave an unforgettable memory?
In the end, I went for it (there aren’t many recent travel journals about this destination).
So, read on... or don’t .
Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

Every time we’ve been to the Canary Islands, it’s been by default (basically: where can we go in winter or early spring when we only have a week—so not too far, not too much jet lag, but with decent weather?).
This time, we had two weeks, but the winter plan kept changing: first Thailand (dropped for personal reasons), then Martinique (dropped because of work leave dates that weren’t up to me), and finally, the Canary Islands.
We’ve already been to Tenerife (which we really liked) and Lanzarote (which we liked a little less). This year, two options: Gran Canaria or one of the smaller islands west of Tenerife (La Palma, or even La Gomera or El Hierro). We chose Gran Canaria... not sure it was the right call! Whose fault is it? Storm Thérèse’s! Yes, Storm Thérèse followed us on arrival, and its effects lasted quite a while. We had to adapt, cancel visits, change activities...
But even without Thérèse...
Saturday 21/03 Departure from Orly at 6:10 AM with Transavia. The plane took off on time and landed a little early, tossed around by strong winds before touching down. It had just rained, but it was (almost) no longer raining.

We quickly picked up our luggage and then the car at the Cicar counter. We got a Seat Arona instead of the Corsa we’d booked. Well, while the driving position didn’t feel great at first (I got used to it), the engine’s smoothness and power were much appreciated on the island’s winding and sometimes steep roads.
It was only 10 AM, and we couldn’t theoretically check into our accommodation until 3 PM (the owner promised to message me if it was ready earlier). So, we headed to the (big) *Jardín Botánico Viera y Clavijo*, where we planned to spend a few hours. We found a huge parking lot... empty. The passenger in the car in front of us (yes, we weren’t the only ones at the closed gate—there was a car in front and one behind) went to ask for info: it was closed due to the storm 😕. So, we calmly headed toward Puerto de las Nieves, on the northwest coast of the island.
The plan: go to a restaurant, visit the village, and do some shopping while waiting for early afternoon. As soon as we got out of the car, it started raining... we took shelter under the awning of a shop, waiting for it to pass. But the rain turned into a downpour, and within minutes, awning or not, Gore-Tex or not, we were soaked!
Since we were already wet, we might as well go to the restaurant—they weren’t far! But here’s the thing: contrary to what Google Maps said, they all opened at 1 PM, not noon! Back to the car, wading through 5 cm of water because all the village streets were flooded . The rain let up, we did some shopping, went to eat, and I got a message from the owner saying the accommodation was ready 🙂.
So, off we went to La Suerte, a few kilometers north of Agaete. The downside of the place, especially with luggage, is that you have to climb several flights of stairs via an outdoor staircase (after parking more or less far away on a steep street) to get there 😛). Of course, on the way from the car to the apartment, it started pouring again—the bags got soaked! Enough rain for today! We settled in quietly, and by late afternoon, we could (finally!) go admire the view from the terrace.

A Bold Combo: Southern Peru, Bolivia, and Northern Chile
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.
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.