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Arusha, Tanzania - October 2025
I would wish never to go to bed where I had woken up, to wander my tent from the shores of Egypt to those of the Persian Gulf; to have no goal for the evening other than the evening itself; to traverse on foot, with my eyes and my heart, all these unknown lands, all these races of people so different from my own; to contemplate humanity, God’s finest creation, in all its forms.
Lamartine in Fatalla Sayeghir’s Account (1861)
As soon as it’s about flying, I lose all willpower. Being reasonable and thoughtful, I still lose all my composure at the mere possibility of a flight—especially if it’s piloted by F.—and even more so if that flight can take me to unexplored lands. I’ve long wanted to unravel the mystery of animal tourism, and why not in Tanzania, following up on my trip from four years ago, when I was already questioning the glaring inequalities in Zanzibar: the coastal strip sacrificed to capitalism, and the inland areas, just a hundred meters from the waves, where you find—though a bit more peaceful than elsewhere on the continent—the chaos of Africa.
I’m an adventurer at heart. When it comes to the terrain, though, it’s a whole different story. I see people setting off for months at a time; I know my endurance doesn’t last beyond three days. It’s not that I’m afraid of this unfamiliar environment when it comes to embracing different realities. I’m mostly afraid of myself—of this heightened sensitivity that makes me see things I’d rather not see and understand others that sometimes overwhelm me.
After an absolutely fantastic daytime flight, I land in Zanzibar and have to resign myself—this is the whole point of the trip—to what feels like a real spacewalk. I’m alone. My lucky star, backed up by my phone, will serve as my lifeline. I step out of the airport and breathe in the scent of Africa full-on: a mix of exotic perfumes, baked earth, and poorly refined fuel, inevitably mingled with the smell of wood smoke. So many images come flooding back. So many stories. Another world.
I head to Arusha the very next day. The gateway to the country’s northern national parks, this city of half a million offers one of those rare breath-holding dives that Africa keeps secret. As the only white person walking the streets, I know I’m visible and vulnerable, yet I move forward confidently, barely bothered. But where are all my fellow Westerners? While this city draws countless tourists, I only cross paths with one white couple in nearly three hours of walking. Because you have to hold on tight to wander here. You have to stay alert. The traffic is dense and erratic—don’t even trust the fact that in Tanzania, people drive on the left. That can change from one minute to the next, especially with motorbikes. With barely centimeters between vehicles, I weave my way through the urban jungle, trying not to stumble into the huge ditch on my left or get sideswiped by cars brushing past me on the right. Speakers blare music, ads, or political speeches at will—the explosion of yellow and green tells us we’re on the eve of the presidential election—but they barely compete with the calls to prayer, nearly nonstop on this holy Friday. The vital space is as saturated as the sound. Imagine an unbroken line of shops and stalls of every kind—supermarkets haven’t made it here yet—where you can find just about anything: phones, copper pipes, Chinese-made hardware, shoes, clothes, basins, and professional tools… The luckiest own a big store; others spend their lives trying to survive on the profits from selling toothbrushes one at a time on the streets. But maybe it’s more lucrative than spending the day slumped on the sidewalk, preferably missing a limb, trusting your survival to the mercy of passersby.
I think I’ll escape the street by slipping into the narrow alleys of the central market. Here, I know I won’t run into anyone like me! The vendors’ stalls start at waist height; the sellers, perched higher up, haggle or not while discussing prices. Here, colorful fruits and vegetables; there, huge piles of dried fish. Spices, seeds, roots. Smells. Noises. Africa. Life. Further on, the fresh fish aisle makes a right angle with the butchers’. Everywhere, flies—everywhere, the same gesture from vendors swatting blindly at these relentless pests. Aware that I’ll be eating this same meat within the hour, displayed with total disregard for basic hygiene, I reassure myself that Arusha sits at 1400m altitude. Yes, we can probably do without a fridge.
*
It’s time to leave the city and go wildlife spotting in the surrounding parks. To that end, I’ve negotiated a package deal with a local agency that prides itself on grouping solo travelers into a vehicle meant for seven. We leave behind the imposing masses of Mount Meru and Kilimanjaro, peaking at 4565m and 5895m respectively, and head west to conquer Tarangire and Ngorongoro parks. I’ve been promised a spectacle; I remain cautious. I’ve read rave reviews; I know how to temper my expectations. Above all, I know what I came for—and paradoxically, my hopes are less about animals than strictly anthropological. So I’m sure I won’t go home disappointed.
I’m in the thick of it. Since 2021, tourism has been booming: I’m one of the two million tourists who come here every year seeking thrills. I also contribute, in a small way, to the 20% of the country’s GDP generated by tourism revenue. Around 3 billion € annually… Tanzania has 16 national parks, twice as many reserves; it charges meticulously for every entry, every night, every activity, to the tune of several dozen euros. I calculated that Tarangire Park alone rakes in around 15 million € a year. Mind-boggling. Yet to get there, a dusty, rickety old track is used daily by hundreds of vehicles that literally saturate the surrounding area with white dust and exhaust fumes. At the park entrance, we wait a good hour while the driver pays the entry fees. Then it’s a free-for-all: dozens of 4x4s try to enter at the same time through the single access point, to the left of the building, while the three barriers are stuck due to a computer glitch. It’s pure chaos: no way to buy your ticket in advance—the QR code revolution hasn’t arrived; no smart layout before the barriers; nothing smooth, nothing practical, everything improvised.
So, the animals? Given the time and money involved, I’d be tempted to say it’s not worth the hassle and there’s really no need to break five legs off one of the too-many zebras we pass. Hours and hours of travel to get to Tanzania, specifically Arusha; hours and hours on the road—up to 12 hours a day—to spend barely three in the parks; at least 200 € per day for the most basic option, so 400 € in my case, and up to several thousand for those wealthy couples opting for the luxury package with a private vehicle. Sure, I saw zebras and elephants in their natural habitat, wildebeest, buffalo, and a few hippos, but I didn’t feel the thrill touted in the articles or even by my two-day trip organizer. Would I have been more satisfied if I’d seen the lion, the leopard, and the rhino? Maybe. But the story won’t be rewritten in light of those assumptions.
Yet I’m not disappointed. As I said earlier: I know what I came for. I wanted to see the world as it is with my own eyes. And the safari world fascinates me more for its anthropological aspect than for what it offers. Yes, the fact that people from all over the world come here, juggling hotels and big 4x4s—while notably avoiding the streets of cities and villages—truly fascinates me. Two worlds coexist on either side of a barely porous border. As soon as the tourist sets foot in the airport, they’re whisked away, sight unseen, into a tourist vehicle. Dropped off at the hotel, they rest there, shielded from view, until the 4x4 departs. Then they speed through those same cities and villages they scorn out of fear or disdain, leaving on the roadside the Maasai herding their flocks and all those poignant or mundane scenes that make up daily African life. In the evening, in their lodge, far from the city’s pulse, they fall asleep thinking about the images they’ve collected, those long hours on the road, the wait for the animals. And the days go by… Maybe the term *luxury*, whether for food or accommodation, refers to what we experience as utterly ordinary in the West? Forgetting that you’re there, in Africa, just steps away from poverty and a certain arbitrariness. And at the end of the journey: back to the airport, back to normal life.
Maybe we need to take a broader view. All that money seems invisible, yet it must serve the population at some point, right? The main roads are passable, the power grid seems well-maintained—I can tell by the excellent condition of the high-voltage transmission towers. Is it really too expensive to significantly improve all the infrastructure? I hoped this windfall would truly serve the people’s interests. The driver taking me back to the airport on the last evening dashes my sweet illusions: « All this is bad. Africa is bad. But you have no choice. The hospitals don’t work, the schools don’t work, the roads don’t work (just as he says this, roadworks force us onto a terrible detour for several kilometers—a rutted track, in fact), and if you say anything, if you speak up too much, they come for you and then you disappear. » That’s just one opinion. Nothing empirical. But I don’t need to be a West Point graduate to realize how rampant corruption is in these regions: while the muezzin bellows the greatness of Allah, I consider the dilapidated equipment and the energy expended by the masses just to survive here. But maybe all that money keeps the country afloat by paying civil servants’ salaries? Meanwhile, one thing is certain: regardless of where the profits go, tourism supports millions of people, and I’m in no position to judge this system too harshly. Maybe I’m too much of an aesthete to appreciate the almost exclusive use of corrugated iron at its true value…
*
I’ll give this system credit for one thing: the chance to set foot in spaces impossible to visit otherwise. At one point, in the heart of the Ngorongoro Crater—a vast 20km-wide plain topped by a 600m-high caldera—I was simply happy to be there. Barely bothered by the constant ballet of 4x4s—the space is vast—I contemplate the simple life of the local animals. Buffalo, wildebeest, zebras as numerous as the flamingos patiently standing on one leg, waiting for the day to pass. Over there, you can make out a few hyenas with vultures circling above. Finally, in a large body of water, hippos surface at regular intervals. I’m aware of my luck. I’m especially aware that, unlike all the people I’ve met there, a lot of money and a little resourcefulness greatly favor the luck factor.
I’m heading home. I soak up the last images of this improbable Africa as night falls quickly over the countryside. I’m fascinated by the number of Maasai herding their livestock along the main road. Some pass the time, globalization obliges, on an old phone; others, sometimes as young as my eldest—barely 10 years old—watch us pass, indifferent. We overtake or are overtaken; the two-lane road is the stage for a majestic ballet of semi-trailers, *dalas-dalas*, and other 4x4s, as numerous as the names of their companies: Leopard Tours, Climbing Kilimanjaro, Smiling Zebra, Nomad Life Enhanced, Elephant Roaming, Mountain Warrior, Master of the Ambush… They drop me off at the hotel, where I have an hour to shower and change into clean clothes before my return flight. Already, I’m slipping back into my own world without really seeing it, leaving behind the hotel’s glass window that African life to which nothing truly binds me. Then that chaotic, suffocating nighttime drive to the airport. Check-in; the stupid questions (« Where are you going? »); the slow police officer who, in the end, stamps my passport anywhere; the idiocy of the security agent (my empty 33cl bottle is forbidden); the rather shabby lounge at Kilimanjaro Airport. Then the return to the vessel—to the Air France plane that left Zanzibar an hour earlier—after this 72-hour spacewalk without a real lifeline. I’ve never been so happy to see F. again.
As soon as it’s about flying, I lose all willpower. Being reasonable and thoughtful, I still lose all my composure at the mere possibility of a flight—especially if it’s piloted by F.—and even more so if that flight can take me to unexplored lands. I’ve long wanted to unravel the mystery of animal tourism, and why not in Tanzania, following up on my trip from four years ago, when I was already questioning the glaring inequalities in Zanzibar: the coastal strip sacrificed to capitalism, and the inland areas, just a hundred meters from the waves, where you find—though a bit more peaceful than elsewhere on the continent—the chaos of Africa.
I’m an adventurer at heart. When it comes to the terrain, though, it’s a whole different story. I see people setting off for months at a time; I know my endurance doesn’t last beyond three days. It’s not that I’m afraid of this unfamiliar environment when it comes to embracing different realities. I’m mostly afraid of myself—of this heightened sensitivity that makes me see things I’d rather not see and understand others that sometimes overwhelm me.
After an absolutely fantastic daytime flight, I land in Zanzibar and have to resign myself—this is the whole point of the trip—to what feels like a real spacewalk. I’m alone. My lucky star, backed up by my phone, will serve as my lifeline. I step out of the airport and breathe in the scent of Africa full-on: a mix of exotic perfumes, baked earth, and poorly refined fuel, inevitably mingled with the smell of wood smoke. So many images come flooding back. So many stories. Another world.
I head to Arusha the very next day. The gateway to the country’s northern national parks, this city of half a million offers one of those rare breath-holding dives that Africa keeps secret. As the only white person walking the streets, I know I’m visible and vulnerable, yet I move forward confidently, barely bothered. But where are all my fellow Westerners? While this city draws countless tourists, I only cross paths with one white couple in nearly three hours of walking. Because you have to hold on tight to wander here. You have to stay alert. The traffic is dense and erratic—don’t even trust the fact that in Tanzania, people drive on the left. That can change from one minute to the next, especially with motorbikes. With barely centimeters between vehicles, I weave my way through the urban jungle, trying not to stumble into the huge ditch on my left or get sideswiped by cars brushing past me on the right. Speakers blare music, ads, or political speeches at will—the explosion of yellow and green tells us we’re on the eve of the presidential election—but they barely compete with the calls to prayer, nearly nonstop on this holy Friday. The vital space is as saturated as the sound. Imagine an unbroken line of shops and stalls of every kind—supermarkets haven’t made it here yet—where you can find just about anything: phones, copper pipes, Chinese-made hardware, shoes, clothes, basins, and professional tools… The luckiest own a big store; others spend their lives trying to survive on the profits from selling toothbrushes one at a time on the streets. But maybe it’s more lucrative than spending the day slumped on the sidewalk, preferably missing a limb, trusting your survival to the mercy of passersby.
I think I’ll escape the street by slipping into the narrow alleys of the central market. Here, I know I won’t run into anyone like me! The vendors’ stalls start at waist height; the sellers, perched higher up, haggle or not while discussing prices. Here, colorful fruits and vegetables; there, huge piles of dried fish. Spices, seeds, roots. Smells. Noises. Africa. Life. Further on, the fresh fish aisle makes a right angle with the butchers’. Everywhere, flies—everywhere, the same gesture from vendors swatting blindly at these relentless pests. Aware that I’ll be eating this same meat within the hour, displayed with total disregard for basic hygiene, I reassure myself that Arusha sits at 1400m altitude. Yes, we can probably do without a fridge.
*
It’s time to leave the city and go wildlife spotting in the surrounding parks. To that end, I’ve negotiated a package deal with a local agency that prides itself on grouping solo travelers into a vehicle meant for seven. We leave behind the imposing masses of Mount Meru and Kilimanjaro, peaking at 4565m and 5895m respectively, and head west to conquer Tarangire and Ngorongoro parks. I’ve been promised a spectacle; I remain cautious. I’ve read rave reviews; I know how to temper my expectations. Above all, I know what I came for—and paradoxically, my hopes are less about animals than strictly anthropological. So I’m sure I won’t go home disappointed.
I’m in the thick of it. Since 2021, tourism has been booming: I’m one of the two million tourists who come here every year seeking thrills. I also contribute, in a small way, to the 20% of the country’s GDP generated by tourism revenue. Around 3 billion € annually… Tanzania has 16 national parks, twice as many reserves; it charges meticulously for every entry, every night, every activity, to the tune of several dozen euros. I calculated that Tarangire Park alone rakes in around 15 million € a year. Mind-boggling. Yet to get there, a dusty, rickety old track is used daily by hundreds of vehicles that literally saturate the surrounding area with white dust and exhaust fumes. At the park entrance, we wait a good hour while the driver pays the entry fees. Then it’s a free-for-all: dozens of 4x4s try to enter at the same time through the single access point, to the left of the building, while the three barriers are stuck due to a computer glitch. It’s pure chaos: no way to buy your ticket in advance—the QR code revolution hasn’t arrived; no smart layout before the barriers; nothing smooth, nothing practical, everything improvised.
So, the animals? Given the time and money involved, I’d be tempted to say it’s not worth the hassle and there’s really no need to break five legs off one of the too-many zebras we pass. Hours and hours of travel to get to Tanzania, specifically Arusha; hours and hours on the road—up to 12 hours a day—to spend barely three in the parks; at least 200 € per day for the most basic option, so 400 € in my case, and up to several thousand for those wealthy couples opting for the luxury package with a private vehicle. Sure, I saw zebras and elephants in their natural habitat, wildebeest, buffalo, and a few hippos, but I didn’t feel the thrill touted in the articles or even by my two-day trip organizer. Would I have been more satisfied if I’d seen the lion, the leopard, and the rhino? Maybe. But the story won’t be rewritten in light of those assumptions.
Yet I’m not disappointed. As I said earlier: I know what I came for. I wanted to see the world as it is with my own eyes. And the safari world fascinates me more for its anthropological aspect than for what it offers. Yes, the fact that people from all over the world come here, juggling hotels and big 4x4s—while notably avoiding the streets of cities and villages—truly fascinates me. Two worlds coexist on either side of a barely porous border. As soon as the tourist sets foot in the airport, they’re whisked away, sight unseen, into a tourist vehicle. Dropped off at the hotel, they rest there, shielded from view, until the 4x4 departs. Then they speed through those same cities and villages they scorn out of fear or disdain, leaving on the roadside the Maasai herding their flocks and all those poignant or mundane scenes that make up daily African life. In the evening, in their lodge, far from the city’s pulse, they fall asleep thinking about the images they’ve collected, those long hours on the road, the wait for the animals. And the days go by… Maybe the term *luxury*, whether for food or accommodation, refers to what we experience as utterly ordinary in the West? Forgetting that you’re there, in Africa, just steps away from poverty and a certain arbitrariness. And at the end of the journey: back to the airport, back to normal life.
Maybe we need to take a broader view. All that money seems invisible, yet it must serve the population at some point, right? The main roads are passable, the power grid seems well-maintained—I can tell by the excellent condition of the high-voltage transmission towers. Is it really too expensive to significantly improve all the infrastructure? I hoped this windfall would truly serve the people’s interests. The driver taking me back to the airport on the last evening dashes my sweet illusions: « All this is bad. Africa is bad. But you have no choice. The hospitals don’t work, the schools don’t work, the roads don’t work (just as he says this, roadworks force us onto a terrible detour for several kilometers—a rutted track, in fact), and if you say anything, if you speak up too much, they come for you and then you disappear. » That’s just one opinion. Nothing empirical. But I don’t need to be a West Point graduate to realize how rampant corruption is in these regions: while the muezzin bellows the greatness of Allah, I consider the dilapidated equipment and the energy expended by the masses just to survive here. But maybe all that money keeps the country afloat by paying civil servants’ salaries? Meanwhile, one thing is certain: regardless of where the profits go, tourism supports millions of people, and I’m in no position to judge this system too harshly. Maybe I’m too much of an aesthete to appreciate the almost exclusive use of corrugated iron at its true value…
*
I’ll give this system credit for one thing: the chance to set foot in spaces impossible to visit otherwise. At one point, in the heart of the Ngorongoro Crater—a vast 20km-wide plain topped by a 600m-high caldera—I was simply happy to be there. Barely bothered by the constant ballet of 4x4s—the space is vast—I contemplate the simple life of the local animals. Buffalo, wildebeest, zebras as numerous as the flamingos patiently standing on one leg, waiting for the day to pass. Over there, you can make out a few hyenas with vultures circling above. Finally, in a large body of water, hippos surface at regular intervals. I’m aware of my luck. I’m especially aware that, unlike all the people I’ve met there, a lot of money and a little resourcefulness greatly favor the luck factor.
I’m heading home. I soak up the last images of this improbable Africa as night falls quickly over the countryside. I’m fascinated by the number of Maasai herding their livestock along the main road. Some pass the time, globalization obliges, on an old phone; others, sometimes as young as my eldest—barely 10 years old—watch us pass, indifferent. We overtake or are overtaken; the two-lane road is the stage for a majestic ballet of semi-trailers, *dalas-dalas*, and other 4x4s, as numerous as the names of their companies: Leopard Tours, Climbing Kilimanjaro, Smiling Zebra, Nomad Life Enhanced, Elephant Roaming, Mountain Warrior, Master of the Ambush… They drop me off at the hotel, where I have an hour to shower and change into clean clothes before my return flight. Already, I’m slipping back into my own world without really seeing it, leaving behind the hotel’s glass window that African life to which nothing truly binds me. Then that chaotic, suffocating nighttime drive to the airport. Check-in; the stupid questions (« Where are you going? »); the slow police officer who, in the end, stamps my passport anywhere; the idiocy of the security agent (my empty 33cl bottle is forbidden); the rather shabby lounge at Kilimanjaro Airport. Then the return to the vessel—to the Air France plane that left Zanzibar an hour earlier—after this 72-hour spacewalk without a real lifeline. I’ve never been so happy to see F. again.
April trip itinerary around Pisa with 2 kids
Hi everyone!
We’re so excited to be heading to Italy for the first time this April with our two kids for a week. We’ve booked our round-trip flight, and we’ll be arriving and departing from Pisa.
Our rough plan so far includes visiting Pisa, taking the train to Florence, and exploring the Cinque Terre. Last night, a friend also suggested adding Siena to the list.
Our kids are 12 and 9 and are used to walking, but we’re not looking to rush around too much. We’d love any advice, especially about accommodation. Should we stay in Pisa and take day trips by train, or split our nights between a couple of different places?
We’re just starting our research, so any tips would be amazing! 😉
Thanks in advance!
Kyoto and Osaka Itinerary for a First Trip to Japan
hi everyone, and first of all, I wish you all a happy new year and good health!
This coming October or November, we’re planning our first trip to Japan. The only downside is we’ll only have two weeks off.
For this first visit, I’m thinking of sticking to the Kyoto and Osaka area… saving Tokyo for another trip. Do you think that’s a good choice for a first-time visit?
I’ve put together a little itinerary below to get some feedback from those in the know. I’m only counting the days we’re actually there, not travel days.
Day 1: Kyoto Ginkaku-ji – Philosopher’s Path with stops at a few shrines temples Eikan-dō and Nanzen-ji visit to the Samurai Ninja Museum in the late afternoon
Day 2: Kyoto Fushimi Inari (allow 4 hours for the hike through the park) visit to Sanjūsangen-dō temple Shōseien garden participate in a tea ceremony
Day 3: Kyoto Kiyomizu-dera temple stroll through the historic district up to Kennin-ji temple visit Kennin-ji temple Yasaka-jinja shrine and Gion district in the late afternoon return to the hotel via Pontochō Street
Day 4: Kyoto visit Kinkaku-ji and Nijō Castle visit the Imperial Palace gardens end the day in the shopping streets (Shibkyogoku and Teramachi, among others)
Day 5: Kyoto Arashiyama area Togetsukyo Bridge, walk along the river, visit the Bamboo Forest explore the area up to Otagi Nenbutsu-ji temple
Day 6: Kyoto hike from Kibune to Kurama
Day 7: Kyoto day trip to Nara (full day)
Day 8: stroll around Kyoto before heading to Osaka
Day 9: Osaka Katsuo-ji temple, then head to Minoh Falls and hike back via the Minoh Trail end the day in the Osaka Castle area
Day 10: Osaka Himeji Castle and an afternoon in Osaka
Day 11: Osaka Osaka and return to the airport in the late afternoon for the flight home
Do you think this itinerary is doable? Are some days too relaxed or too packed? I was thinking of adding a trip to Lake Biwa and Uji, but in that case, I’d have to cut some things. Are those places worth dropping some of the planned spots? And if so, which ones would you recommend cutting or shortening?
Thanks in advance—I’m all ears for both positive and negative feedback! stephane
This coming October or November, we’re planning our first trip to Japan. The only downside is we’ll only have two weeks off.
For this first visit, I’m thinking of sticking to the Kyoto and Osaka area… saving Tokyo for another trip. Do you think that’s a good choice for a first-time visit?
I’ve put together a little itinerary below to get some feedback from those in the know. I’m only counting the days we’re actually there, not travel days.
Day 1: Kyoto Ginkaku-ji – Philosopher’s Path with stops at a few shrines temples Eikan-dō and Nanzen-ji visit to the Samurai Ninja Museum in the late afternoon
Day 2: Kyoto Fushimi Inari (allow 4 hours for the hike through the park) visit to Sanjūsangen-dō temple Shōseien garden participate in a tea ceremony
Day 3: Kyoto Kiyomizu-dera temple stroll through the historic district up to Kennin-ji temple visit Kennin-ji temple Yasaka-jinja shrine and Gion district in the late afternoon return to the hotel via Pontochō Street
Day 4: Kyoto visit Kinkaku-ji and Nijō Castle visit the Imperial Palace gardens end the day in the shopping streets (Shibkyogoku and Teramachi, among others)
Day 5: Kyoto Arashiyama area Togetsukyo Bridge, walk along the river, visit the Bamboo Forest explore the area up to Otagi Nenbutsu-ji temple
Day 6: Kyoto hike from Kibune to Kurama
Day 7: Kyoto day trip to Nara (full day)
Day 8: stroll around Kyoto before heading to Osaka
Day 9: Osaka Katsuo-ji temple, then head to Minoh Falls and hike back via the Minoh Trail end the day in the Osaka Castle area
Day 10: Osaka Himeji Castle and an afternoon in Osaka
Day 11: Osaka Osaka and return to the airport in the late afternoon for the flight home
Do you think this itinerary is doable? Are some days too relaxed or too packed? I was thinking of adding a trip to Lake Biwa and Uji, but in that case, I’d have to cut some things. Are those places worth dropping some of the planned spots? And if so, which ones would you recommend cutting or shortening?
Thanks in advance—I’m all ears for both positive and negative feedback! stephane
December Photo Contest Discussion: One or Multiple Shots of Towers
This is the place to chat about December’s theme!
I’ll start with a little TOUR of the world’s TOURS.
Of course, you can submit multiple photos of the same tower in the contest—it’s the quality of the photo that’ll be judged during voting, not just the subject!
Of course, you can submit multiple photos of the same tower in the contest—it’s the quality of the photo that’ll be judged during voting, not just the subject!
Which neighborhood to stay in Rome based on my criteria?
Hi there, 🙂
I’m about to book 4 nights in the Italian capital and I’m wondering where the best place to stay would be.
- A neighborhood that’s not too noisy - A neighborhood well served by public transport (airport and the city’s main sights) - A neighborhood with restaurants and supermarkets - A neighborhood with relatively reasonable prices
Public transport is essential. We gave this trip as a gift to someone who won’t be able to walk long distances like we usually do.
I also don’t want to be too far from the historic center.
Termini and Monti seem to fit these criteria? Is Termini a bit sketchy? But sketchy like dangerous or sketchy like homeless people just looking for a place to sleep?
We’ll be traveling off-season.
Thanks for your ideas !
I’m about to book 4 nights in the Italian capital and I’m wondering where the best place to stay would be.
- A neighborhood that’s not too noisy - A neighborhood well served by public transport (airport and the city’s main sights) - A neighborhood with restaurants and supermarkets - A neighborhood with relatively reasonable prices
Public transport is essential. We gave this trip as a gift to someone who won’t be able to walk long distances like we usually do.
I also don’t want to be too far from the historic center.
Termini and Monti seem to fit these criteria? Is Termini a bit sketchy? But sketchy like dangerous or sketchy like homeless people just looking for a place to sleep?
We’ll be traveling off-season.
Thanks for your ideas !
Is the vehicle registration document mandatory when boarding in Denmark?
Hi there,
we’re planning our trip to the North Cape this summer. We bought a new vehicle for it. Unfortunately, the registration document is still being processed, and the delay seems long—I don’t think I’ll have it in time for our departure...
I have the transfer documents, insurance in my name, and all the supporting paperwork, but not the registration document. So my question is: does the ferry company require the registration document *mandatorily* when boarding in Denmark or not?
Thanks for any insights...
Wood: Discussion(s) about the July 2025 contest
All the side discussions about the contest happen here.
Where to go in Greece with a child (3 years old): which island and accommodation?
Hi there,
I’m planning a trip to Greece this summer with my 3-year-old son. I recently separated, and we were originally supposed to go on a road trip to Brazil, so I’m now forced to find a Plan B.
I’m usually a backpacker who travels with just my backpack, but with my son, I’ll have to opt for all-inclusive hotel packages. I don’t feel ready yet to go backpacking alone with him at the other end of the world. When he’s 5, it’ll be easier :)
Anyway, with so many options for Greece, I’m a bit overwhelmed. There are so many islands and resorts. Do you have an island to recommend? And more specifically, a hotel?
We’re looking at the first two weeks of August.
Thanks for your help!
Thomas
Anyway, with so many options for Greece, I’m a bit overwhelmed. There are so many islands and resorts. Do you have an island to recommend? And more specifically, a hotel?
We’re looking at the first two weeks of August.
Thanks for your help!
Thomas
What's the best guide to prepare for the Blues Trail? (United States)
Hello everyone, and a big THANK YOU to all the travelers who took the time to reply to my last post and tell me that doing South India in 28 days was a sweet utopia. My dear friends, you were absolutely right.
After 4 days in Goa, I settled for exploring all of Karnataka and its beautiful UNESCO-listed temples, and I loved it.
Kerala and Tamil Nadu will have to wait until next year when I can take 6 weeks off.
But the purpose of this post is to ask you which guide or website would be best to prepare for the BLUES TRAIL I’d like to do in September or October 2025 over a month: 3 weeks to travel the route, enjoy Nashville a bit too, and the last week to explore Louisiana. I saw that *Le Routard* has a guide on Louisiana. Where else can I find more info?
Thanks so much for your help. Take care of yourselves and happy travels. Régine
But the purpose of this post is to ask you which guide or website would be best to prepare for the BLUES TRAIL I’d like to do in September or October 2025 over a month: 3 weeks to travel the route, enjoy Nashville a bit too, and the last week to explore Louisiana. I saw that *Le Routard* has a guide on Louisiana. Where else can I find more info?
Thanks so much for your help. Take care of yourselves and happy travels. Régine
Some practical info on Dakar and Saint Louis.
January 2025
We had to negotiate hard to get an official yellow taxi at the airport to go to Yene, one of the villages closest to the airport.
Exchange rate at the airport was bad: 630 XOF for 1 €.
Taxi fare: 15,000 XOF = 24 €.
It’s still quite far from the airport. The driver won’t know the place, so it’s better to have the location saved on a GPS like Organic Maps or similar.
La Résidence Keur Fleurie in Yene Hotel fleurie residence Address: Route de Toubab Dialaw Phone: +221 78 484 95 95 19,000 CFA (about 30 €) for two people per night. Dinner was a single dish for 5,000 CFA (very expensive for just one plate). Breakfast: 2,500 CFA. The place is in a very small fishing village. No restaurants, no bars. If you go there, you’ll have to eat and have breakfast on-site. There’s nothing to do in the area in the evening. The room and bathroom are nice, the beds are comfortable—one large and one small. The Wi-Fi barely works. There are mosquitoes. You’ll need to ask for towels, top sheets, and blankets if needed. To get back to the city, take bus 228 to the train station. You’ll need to go to the paved road and wait. Bus fare: 500 XOF. You arrive at Bargny station, and surprisingly, there’s a high-standard train—cleaner and more efficient than the best TER trains. It’s almost unreal. The cheap train takes you into Dakar. Just choose the station closest to your destination.
Apartment Villa Lumière Tel +221 77 710 91 79 Address: Scat Urbam (Hlm Grand Yoff) Rue Gy 178 in Dakar If you see this apartment on booking.com, **do not go**—it’s a dump. Don’t trust the photos, unless you’re into "roots"-style places, then it’s up to you. For one night without booking: 12,000 CFA for two people. One large bed, no Wi-Fi. It feels like walking into a squat. Once inside the apartment, it’s better, but everything is run-down. The guy is very nice, but this apartment has no business being on an online booking site!
Gorée Island There are several departures per day. Crossing takes half an hour. Price: 5,000 CFA.
To Saint Louis From Liberté 6, Demdick buses leave twice a day. They’re comfortable but often full, so book in advance. Price: 5,000 CFA, and it takes 5 hours to get there. First night at Chez Marie, found on Airbnb. It’s not on the island—it’s in the Balacos neighborhood, Rue BL 16 or 14, near Rue Modu Sow Ousmane. The house is nice and quiet. The hosts take great care of you. The room is good, with Wi-Fi, and breakfast is included in the price. Price for two people: 20,000 CFA (30 €).
Another hotel on the island: Hôtel du Palais. Rue Ababacar (Tel: (221) 33 961 17 72 / 78 137 47 07). 25,000 CFA (39 €) for two people without breakfast. It’s the cheapest we could find. It’s old-fashioned. In the bathroom, there’s no water pressure in the shower, though it’s hot. You’ll have to ask multiple times—or even harass them—to get top sheets, blankets if needed, and towels. The mattresses aren’t comfortable—one large bed and one small. Wi-Fi in the room. Prices in Saint Louis are very high, and the quality of the hotels really doesn’t justify such steep rates.
Restaurants: (in my opinion) One of the best is Le Fleuve Plus. Rue Blaise Diagne. The best: La Linguère, on the same street.
Shared taxi (7-seater) to Rosso, Senegal, to cross the border into Mauritania (the border is the Senegal River). Go to the garage (bus/taxi station). From there, only shared 7-seater taxis make the trip, and they only leave when full. In front of each spot, a sign indicates the taxi’s destination. It costs 2,500 CFA—if you’re lucky. Otherwise, they’ll charge you an extra 500 CFA for luggage. If you can, choose the seat next to the driver (by far the best). Ironically, you have to wear a seatbelt even though the taxi is a rolling wreck! Otherwise, pick the seats behind the driver and prioritize the window side. The back seats are very uncomfortable.
By contacting hotels directly, you won’t pay the booking.com fee, which can add up to several euros.
La Résidence Keur Fleurie in Yene Hotel fleurie residence Address: Route de Toubab Dialaw Phone: +221 78 484 95 95 19,000 CFA (about 30 €) for two people per night. Dinner was a single dish for 5,000 CFA (very expensive for just one plate). Breakfast: 2,500 CFA. The place is in a very small fishing village. No restaurants, no bars. If you go there, you’ll have to eat and have breakfast on-site. There’s nothing to do in the area in the evening. The room and bathroom are nice, the beds are comfortable—one large and one small. The Wi-Fi barely works. There are mosquitoes. You’ll need to ask for towels, top sheets, and blankets if needed. To get back to the city, take bus 228 to the train station. You’ll need to go to the paved road and wait. Bus fare: 500 XOF. You arrive at Bargny station, and surprisingly, there’s a high-standard train—cleaner and more efficient than the best TER trains. It’s almost unreal. The cheap train takes you into Dakar. Just choose the station closest to your destination.
Apartment Villa Lumière Tel +221 77 710 91 79 Address: Scat Urbam (Hlm Grand Yoff) Rue Gy 178 in Dakar If you see this apartment on booking.com, **do not go**—it’s a dump. Don’t trust the photos, unless you’re into "roots"-style places, then it’s up to you. For one night without booking: 12,000 CFA for two people. One large bed, no Wi-Fi. It feels like walking into a squat. Once inside the apartment, it’s better, but everything is run-down. The guy is very nice, but this apartment has no business being on an online booking site!
Gorée Island There are several departures per day. Crossing takes half an hour. Price: 5,000 CFA.
To Saint Louis From Liberté 6, Demdick buses leave twice a day. They’re comfortable but often full, so book in advance. Price: 5,000 CFA, and it takes 5 hours to get there. First night at Chez Marie, found on Airbnb. It’s not on the island—it’s in the Balacos neighborhood, Rue BL 16 or 14, near Rue Modu Sow Ousmane. The house is nice and quiet. The hosts take great care of you. The room is good, with Wi-Fi, and breakfast is included in the price. Price for two people: 20,000 CFA (30 €).
Another hotel on the island: Hôtel du Palais. Rue Ababacar (Tel: (221) 33 961 17 72 / 78 137 47 07). 25,000 CFA (39 €) for two people without breakfast. It’s the cheapest we could find. It’s old-fashioned. In the bathroom, there’s no water pressure in the shower, though it’s hot. You’ll have to ask multiple times—or even harass them—to get top sheets, blankets if needed, and towels. The mattresses aren’t comfortable—one large bed and one small. Wi-Fi in the room. Prices in Saint Louis are very high, and the quality of the hotels really doesn’t justify such steep rates.
Restaurants: (in my opinion) One of the best is Le Fleuve Plus. Rue Blaise Diagne. The best: La Linguère, on the same street.
Shared taxi (7-seater) to Rosso, Senegal, to cross the border into Mauritania (the border is the Senegal River). Go to the garage (bus/taxi station). From there, only shared 7-seater taxis make the trip, and they only leave when full. In front of each spot, a sign indicates the taxi’s destination. It costs 2,500 CFA—if you’re lucky. Otherwise, they’ll charge you an extra 500 CFA for luggage. If you can, choose the seat next to the driver (by far the best). Ironically, you have to wear a seatbelt even though the taxi is a rolling wreck! Otherwise, pick the seats behind the driver and prioritize the window side. The back seats are very uncomfortable.
By contacting hotels directly, you won’t pay the booking.com fee, which can add up to several euros.
Visiting Viscri and Biertan Without a Car (Romania)
Hi there,
We’re two young engaged folks trying to plan a trip to Romania by train since we can’t drive. We’d love to visit Viscri and Biertan, but we’re not sure how to get there...
Any ideas?
Same question for the painted monasteries of Bucovina.
We might also take a taxi from Rupea, but we’re not sure how to arrange a ride back...
Thanks so much for your help
Road conditions in the Anti-Atlas
hi,
Now that I’ve got my new VW Syncro T3 (4x4), I’m hoping to explore some new tracks on my next trip at the end of 2025.
Back in winter 2022/23, I wanted to try a recently extended track that continues the one leading to Aït Kine.
After the village, I was able to drive on a good ten kilometers of tarmac, which then turns into a nice dirt track as soon as the climb to the pass begins (beautiful ravines). Almost at the last hairpin turn, I didn’t have enough power or traction to make it (my old T3 was only 2x4).
I had to turn around, clenching my cheeks the whole way.
Has anyone managed to take this track, which should lead to a main road (Igherm or Taliouine?) further north? And where exactly?
Is it fully paved now?
Best spots for 8 days in Iceland?
Hi everyone,
We’re planning an 8–9 day trip in October 2025. The goal is to take it slow, enjoy two spots for hiking, photography, and soaking up nature—without rushing. Iceland’s seeing a tourism boom in places like the Golden Circle and Blue Lagoon, which we’d rather skip.
We’re thinking of spending 3–4 days on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula. Then, we could add the peninsula near Reykjavík (where the airport is) or head up to Blönduós in the north. Another option is taking the ferry via Flatey Island to reach the northwest fjords and just explore the southern part.
There’s also an airport in Ísafjörður—we could fly there and base ourselves in the Westfjords for the whole week… Or check out the north around Akureyri. Alternatively, would it be more doable and practical to stay around Vík?
Thanks for reading!
We’re planning an 8–9 day trip in October 2025. The goal is to take it slow, enjoy two spots for hiking, photography, and soaking up nature—without rushing. Iceland’s seeing a tourism boom in places like the Golden Circle and Blue Lagoon, which we’d rather skip.
We’re thinking of spending 3–4 days on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula. Then, we could add the peninsula near Reykjavík (where the airport is) or head up to Blönduós in the north. Another option is taking the ferry via Flatey Island to reach the northwest fjords and just explore the southern part.
There’s also an airport in Ísafjörður—we could fly there and base ourselves in the Westfjords for the whole week… Or check out the north around Akureyri. Alternatively, would it be more doable and practical to stay around Vík?
Thanks for reading!
Mediterranean Cruise on the Tosca Toscana
Hi there,
I’m going on a cruise in March, sailing the Mediterranean on the Tosca Toscana.
I’d love to hear your great tips for life on board and for the different stops: Barcelona, Rome, Palermo, and Civitavecchia.
Thanks in advance!
Mexico: The Magic of the Yucatán
Hello everyone,
What a pleasure to be back on VF after a few difficult years 😎 So, before diving into the topic, welcome back to VF and above all... keep going!
Well, I’m finally picking up my old habit of posting a new travel journal.
Before heading to Mexico in the summer of 2023 with my family (my partner and our two boys, aged 18 and 16), I had somehow convinced myself—though I can’t even remember why—that the Yucatán was too touristy, too cliché, too expensive, and overrated!
The country didn’t particularly appeal to me, but faced with my wife’s insistence—she’d been there years ago, before we met, and had promised to show our sons this incredible place—my arguments didn’t hold much weight.
And thank goodness, because I have to admit she was absolutely right to take us there! In the end, we encountered far fewer tourists than we’d feared (except at a few sites), and the prices, which we’d been told were geared toward American neighbors (US), turned out to be quite affordable. In short, it was pure joy on both counts. All that was left was for the trip itself to be beautiful and memorable—and it was...
1st stop: Isla Holbox and the whale sharks
Holbox (pronounced “Hol-bosh”) is a stunning island where you can relax in an enchanting setting.
Our main goal in coming to Holbox was to swim with whale sharks. So, the first thing we told our hotel, Los Arcos Holbox, upon arrival was to arrange an excursion with one of the island’s many tour operators: Glendy Tours Holbox. We set off the next morning, bright and early.
The itinerary for this outing is the same for all tour operators (and there are about thirty of them!): roughly two hours by speedboat, then snorkeling with the whale sharks, followed by another boat ride to Cabo Catoche for lunch, then more boating to a fish-filled snorkeling spot before heading back. In total, the excursion can take eight hours—or even longer.
Besides my two sons and me, there were only two other clients on board—a French couple. Our boat was one of the very first to leave, but after ten minutes, the pilot got a radio call. We turned back without any explanation, returning to the departure dock.
There, a young woman who clearly fancied herself a diva was waiting for us. She was Mexican and boarded the boat, snubbing all five of us while flirting with the pilot and guide, who were suddenly all eyes for her. We couldn’t understand how this diva had convinced our tour operator to turn the boat around just to pick her up when she hadn’t even booked and we were already far out. We left 20 minutes late.
The two-hour journey passed surprisingly quickly, and for good reason: we spotted dolphins six times! They were leaping out of the water as they moved. Pure joy. We stopped whenever they were near the boat.
The photo isn’t great—the ultra-wide-angle lens on my GoPro makes the dolphins look smaller—but at least I got a souvenir.
A few flying fish (exocets) also glided a meter or two above the water as we sped along. The false start was forgotten, and the day was off to a fantastic start in this stunning marine environment...
When we reached the area where the whale sharks were supposed to be, the guide explained that we’d now have to scan the sea until we spotted one. It could take five minutes or forty-five, he said, and if we were unlucky, we might not see any at all!
An hour and a half later—still nothing! The captain then headed toward a distant area where about twenty other boats were already gathered.
Sure enough, there was a juvenile whale shark (still a good eight meters long) there, and all the boats were lining up to approach it slowly, one by one, so as not to scare the animal. Each boat got about thirty seconds within a few meters of it, engine idling, before making way for the next. We were allowed to approach three times, but we weren’t permitted to dive in. That’s normal—such a crowd of divers around a single animal would stress it out, and here, whale sharks are protected by regulations: swimming with them is strictly controlled. There was even a coast guard boat with us at all times, monitoring everyone’s behavior.
We were torn between the luck of seeing such a magnificent animal, even from the surface, and the discomfort we felt about the absurd situation. All those boats lined up just to catch a fleeting glimpse of the shark for a few seconds—let’s be honest, it was ridiculous. In short, the whole thing was unpleasant, and probably even more so for the shark than for us, though it did keep gulping down kilos of plankton as if nothing were happening...
When it was our turn to approach, I dipped my GoPro into the water at arm’s length and framed the shot blindly, hoping for a decent image of the shark.
On the third and final approach, the sixth passenger on board—the one we’d had to turn back for ten minutes after departure—quietly spoke to the guide and captain after putting on her flippers (even though, I’ll remind you, no one was allowed to dive). She wanted them to ask the coast guard for permission to dive with the shark—just her! She whispered so we couldn’t hear what she was offering in exchange.
The two lackeys complied and shouted the request to the officials in front of all the other boats, with no shame whatsoever. With so many witnesses, the coast guard had no choice but to refuse. The diva wouldn’t let it go and asked them to insist, which they did, but the refusal was firm and final.
On the nearest boats, everyone had heard and was stunned. They openly mocked this bimbo who clearly had no shame. Hidden behind her star sunglasses, she responded with a dismissive smile. Pathetic.
The encounter with the shark ended, and we set off for Cabo Catoche, a site on Holbox Island where we were to have lunch.
We were a little disappointed not to have had the chance to see the usual school of whale sharks (they’re often dozens swimming together!), but that’s nature’s way, and we knew it.
And then, an unlikely stroke of luck: a boat ahead of us was putting divers in the water with a pair of adult whale sharks. We joined them, and while we were putting on our masks and snorkels, the guide briefed us. He said my sons and I would go first, followed by the French couple and the diva.
But Miss World, clearly unhappy with this order, quietly complained to the guide, who eventually switched the order. It didn’t bother us since we’d only get a minute in the water anyway—what’s a minute more or less?
So the three of them got in the water, and a moment later, they were done. My two sons and I, sitting on the edge of the boat with masks on and snorkels in our mouths, were ready to finally take the plunge. But instead of continuing to follow the shark, the captain was suddenly all eyes for Miss Silicone! He even let go of the wheel for a moment to help her back on board.
One of the two sharks had already left minutes earlier, and the second was swimming farther away. Other boats were arriving, and the captain went to join the queue 100 meters from the shark. Soon, even more boats showed up. There were way too many people, the shark left, and diving was no longer possible.
I was, of course, a little disappointed not to have fulfilled my long-time dream of swimming with a whale shark, even briefly. But I was mostly disgusted for my two boys, who had been so excited about it. I told the guide exactly what I thought and asked for compensation—not for missing out on swimming with the shark (you can never guarantee seeing one, nature isn’t at our beck and call), but for clearly skipping our turn to dive. He promised a refund.
At the end of the day, back on land, he dropped us all off, and as he was about to leave, I reminded him about the refund. He agreed again, calmly got back on board, and sped off as if nothing had happened—just him and the captain, two total cowards. I couldn’t believe it.
Of course, back at our hotel (which had booked this tour operator—Glendy Tours), I explained the situation and asked for my refund again. The receptionist called the manager, who arrived with the guide. Our runaway wasn’t so cocky anymore. Inside, I was fuming, but I kept my cool during the discussion that followed.
Right off the bat, I made a point of looking the so-called guide in the eyes while telling him he’d run off like a coward. I did my best to stay calm, speaking clearly, staring him down the whole time, and repeating several times that he was a coward, in front of the manager, who didn’t say a word. The guide had clearly been told by his boss to keep quiet because he didn’t utter a word during the entire twenty-minute conversation.
Anyway, I’ll spare you the details, but in the end, the manager only offered us another excursion the next day as compensation for the “inconvenience.” It was just snorkeling with fish, not another whale shark trip. He admitted their fault, but since we had to leave early the next morning and had other bookings for the rest of the trip, we couldn’t accept. And he refused to refund us.
On Tripadvisor, Glendy Tours has a mediocre rating (3 out of 5), but more importantly, it ranks 29th out of 36 nautical tour operators rated by customers. I was pretty upset with the hotel for booking such an amateur for us.
If you want to swim with whale sharks in Holbox, you might end up with Glendy Tours. And it might go well—I certainly hope so. But given the price of such an excursion (3,000 pesos per person, about 160 €!), I’d still suggest quickly checking online before you go to see which providers have the best ratings. You’ll have a much better chance of things going smoothly with the top-rated ones than with those as poorly ranked as Glendy Tours.
On the other hand, if you’re a beautiful young woman, you can choose them without worry—you’ll get better treatment than the rest of us...
To wrap up this excursion, I have to mention the “respect for nature” angle that all these tour operators highlight. They tell us they respect the whale sharks: only two or three people can dive at a time, and only for a few minutes, so as not to disturb these gentle giants...
We believed them before we left, but that’s not what we saw. When the sharks are hard to find except for one, everyone rushes it, and only the constant presence of the coast guard prevents the tour operators from putting their clients in the water.
Because for the second shark we saw, when the divers from our boat got out of the water and we left to join the queue while it was our turn to dive, other boats quickly arrived and started swarming the poor shark, which eventually left.
In other words, it’s clear these companies only respect the sharks when they’re being watched.
Boat reversing a meter away from a pelican
And for the snorkeling near Cabo Catoche, they attract fish daily by feeding them—a practice that’s normally discouraged. Afterward, these fish can’t feed naturally anymore and become dependent on Glendy Tours and its competitors.
A quick note on the rest of the excursion: Cabo Catoche (the site where we had lunch, on Holbox Island) is the northernmost point of the entire Yucatán. The place is paradise.
On the way back, we spent half an hour snorkeling at a site that turned out to be fish-filled only because the tour operators had the bad habit of feeding the fish. But this practice, which isn’t respectful of nature, is normally discouraged.
Plus, life jackets—like in many places in the Yucatán—are mandatory!!
As divers, we didn’t find the site very interesting, but objectively, it should delight those who aren’t used to putting their heads underwater in beautiful dive spots.
We hated feeling trapped in those life jackets, stuck at the surface, and for me, the highlight was swimming next to a pelican that wasn’t too shy—it was paddling right beside me in green water.
Anyway, it seems we can’t post more than 10 photos at once on VF, so I’ll come back with the rest of the journal in another message. Because after these early trip mishaps, the rest of the journey turned out to be magnificent...
What a pleasure to be back on VF after a few difficult years 😎 So, before diving into the topic, welcome back to VF and above all... keep going!
Well, I’m finally picking up my old habit of posting a new travel journal.
Before heading to Mexico in the summer of 2023 with my family (my partner and our two boys, aged 18 and 16), I had somehow convinced myself—though I can’t even remember why—that the Yucatán was too touristy, too cliché, too expensive, and overrated!
The country didn’t particularly appeal to me, but faced with my wife’s insistence—she’d been there years ago, before we met, and had promised to show our sons this incredible place—my arguments didn’t hold much weight.
And thank goodness, because I have to admit she was absolutely right to take us there! In the end, we encountered far fewer tourists than we’d feared (except at a few sites), and the prices, which we’d been told were geared toward American neighbors (US), turned out to be quite affordable. In short, it was pure joy on both counts. All that was left was for the trip itself to be beautiful and memorable—and it was...
1st stop: Isla Holbox and the whale sharks
Holbox (pronounced “Hol-bosh”) is a stunning island where you can relax in an enchanting setting.
Our main goal in coming to Holbox was to swim with whale sharks. So, the first thing we told our hotel, Los Arcos Holbox, upon arrival was to arrange an excursion with one of the island’s many tour operators: Glendy Tours Holbox. We set off the next morning, bright and early.
The itinerary for this outing is the same for all tour operators (and there are about thirty of them!): roughly two hours by speedboat, then snorkeling with the whale sharks, followed by another boat ride to Cabo Catoche for lunch, then more boating to a fish-filled snorkeling spot before heading back. In total, the excursion can take eight hours—or even longer.
Besides my two sons and me, there were only two other clients on board—a French couple. Our boat was one of the very first to leave, but after ten minutes, the pilot got a radio call. We turned back without any explanation, returning to the departure dock.
There, a young woman who clearly fancied herself a diva was waiting for us. She was Mexican and boarded the boat, snubbing all five of us while flirting with the pilot and guide, who were suddenly all eyes for her. We couldn’t understand how this diva had convinced our tour operator to turn the boat around just to pick her up when she hadn’t even booked and we were already far out. We left 20 minutes late.
The two-hour journey passed surprisingly quickly, and for good reason: we spotted dolphins six times! They were leaping out of the water as they moved. Pure joy. We stopped whenever they were near the boat.
The photo isn’t great—the ultra-wide-angle lens on my GoPro makes the dolphins look smaller—but at least I got a souvenir.
A few flying fish (exocets) also glided a meter or two above the water as we sped along. The false start was forgotten, and the day was off to a fantastic start in this stunning marine environment...
When we reached the area where the whale sharks were supposed to be, the guide explained that we’d now have to scan the sea until we spotted one. It could take five minutes or forty-five, he said, and if we were unlucky, we might not see any at all!
An hour and a half later—still nothing! The captain then headed toward a distant area where about twenty other boats were already gathered.
Sure enough, there was a juvenile whale shark (still a good eight meters long) there, and all the boats were lining up to approach it slowly, one by one, so as not to scare the animal. Each boat got about thirty seconds within a few meters of it, engine idling, before making way for the next. We were allowed to approach three times, but we weren’t permitted to dive in. That’s normal—such a crowd of divers around a single animal would stress it out, and here, whale sharks are protected by regulations: swimming with them is strictly controlled. There was even a coast guard boat with us at all times, monitoring everyone’s behavior.
We were torn between the luck of seeing such a magnificent animal, even from the surface, and the discomfort we felt about the absurd situation. All those boats lined up just to catch a fleeting glimpse of the shark for a few seconds—let’s be honest, it was ridiculous. In short, the whole thing was unpleasant, and probably even more so for the shark than for us, though it did keep gulping down kilos of plankton as if nothing were happening...
When it was our turn to approach, I dipped my GoPro into the water at arm’s length and framed the shot blindly, hoping for a decent image of the shark.
On the third and final approach, the sixth passenger on board—the one we’d had to turn back for ten minutes after departure—quietly spoke to the guide and captain after putting on her flippers (even though, I’ll remind you, no one was allowed to dive). She wanted them to ask the coast guard for permission to dive with the shark—just her! She whispered so we couldn’t hear what she was offering in exchange.
The two lackeys complied and shouted the request to the officials in front of all the other boats, with no shame whatsoever. With so many witnesses, the coast guard had no choice but to refuse. The diva wouldn’t let it go and asked them to insist, which they did, but the refusal was firm and final.
On the nearest boats, everyone had heard and was stunned. They openly mocked this bimbo who clearly had no shame. Hidden behind her star sunglasses, she responded with a dismissive smile. Pathetic.
The encounter with the shark ended, and we set off for Cabo Catoche, a site on Holbox Island where we were to have lunch.
We were a little disappointed not to have had the chance to see the usual school of whale sharks (they’re often dozens swimming together!), but that’s nature’s way, and we knew it.
And then, an unlikely stroke of luck: a boat ahead of us was putting divers in the water with a pair of adult whale sharks. We joined them, and while we were putting on our masks and snorkels, the guide briefed us. He said my sons and I would go first, followed by the French couple and the diva.
But Miss World, clearly unhappy with this order, quietly complained to the guide, who eventually switched the order. It didn’t bother us since we’d only get a minute in the water anyway—what’s a minute more or less?
So the three of them got in the water, and a moment later, they were done. My two sons and I, sitting on the edge of the boat with masks on and snorkels in our mouths, were ready to finally take the plunge. But instead of continuing to follow the shark, the captain was suddenly all eyes for Miss Silicone! He even let go of the wheel for a moment to help her back on board.
One of the two sharks had already left minutes earlier, and the second was swimming farther away. Other boats were arriving, and the captain went to join the queue 100 meters from the shark. Soon, even more boats showed up. There were way too many people, the shark left, and diving was no longer possible.
I was, of course, a little disappointed not to have fulfilled my long-time dream of swimming with a whale shark, even briefly. But I was mostly disgusted for my two boys, who had been so excited about it. I told the guide exactly what I thought and asked for compensation—not for missing out on swimming with the shark (you can never guarantee seeing one, nature isn’t at our beck and call), but for clearly skipping our turn to dive. He promised a refund.
At the end of the day, back on land, he dropped us all off, and as he was about to leave, I reminded him about the refund. He agreed again, calmly got back on board, and sped off as if nothing had happened—just him and the captain, two total cowards. I couldn’t believe it.
Of course, back at our hotel (which had booked this tour operator—Glendy Tours), I explained the situation and asked for my refund again. The receptionist called the manager, who arrived with the guide. Our runaway wasn’t so cocky anymore. Inside, I was fuming, but I kept my cool during the discussion that followed.
Right off the bat, I made a point of looking the so-called guide in the eyes while telling him he’d run off like a coward. I did my best to stay calm, speaking clearly, staring him down the whole time, and repeating several times that he was a coward, in front of the manager, who didn’t say a word. The guide had clearly been told by his boss to keep quiet because he didn’t utter a word during the entire twenty-minute conversation.
Anyway, I’ll spare you the details, but in the end, the manager only offered us another excursion the next day as compensation for the “inconvenience.” It was just snorkeling with fish, not another whale shark trip. He admitted their fault, but since we had to leave early the next morning and had other bookings for the rest of the trip, we couldn’t accept. And he refused to refund us.
On Tripadvisor, Glendy Tours has a mediocre rating (3 out of 5), but more importantly, it ranks 29th out of 36 nautical tour operators rated by customers. I was pretty upset with the hotel for booking such an amateur for us.
If you want to swim with whale sharks in Holbox, you might end up with Glendy Tours. And it might go well—I certainly hope so. But given the price of such an excursion (3,000 pesos per person, about 160 €!), I’d still suggest quickly checking online before you go to see which providers have the best ratings. You’ll have a much better chance of things going smoothly with the top-rated ones than with those as poorly ranked as Glendy Tours.
On the other hand, if you’re a beautiful young woman, you can choose them without worry—you’ll get better treatment than the rest of us...
To wrap up this excursion, I have to mention the “respect for nature” angle that all these tour operators highlight. They tell us they respect the whale sharks: only two or three people can dive at a time, and only for a few minutes, so as not to disturb these gentle giants...
We believed them before we left, but that’s not what we saw. When the sharks are hard to find except for one, everyone rushes it, and only the constant presence of the coast guard prevents the tour operators from putting their clients in the water.
Because for the second shark we saw, when the divers from our boat got out of the water and we left to join the queue while it was our turn to dive, other boats quickly arrived and started swarming the poor shark, which eventually left.
In other words, it’s clear these companies only respect the sharks when they’re being watched.
Boat reversing a meter away from a pelicanAnd for the snorkeling near Cabo Catoche, they attract fish daily by feeding them—a practice that’s normally discouraged. Afterward, these fish can’t feed naturally anymore and become dependent on Glendy Tours and its competitors.
A quick note on the rest of the excursion: Cabo Catoche (the site where we had lunch, on Holbox Island) is the northernmost point of the entire Yucatán. The place is paradise.
On the way back, we spent half an hour snorkeling at a site that turned out to be fish-filled only because the tour operators had the bad habit of feeding the fish. But this practice, which isn’t respectful of nature, is normally discouraged.
Plus, life jackets—like in many places in the Yucatán—are mandatory!!
As divers, we didn’t find the site very interesting, but objectively, it should delight those who aren’t used to putting their heads underwater in beautiful dive spots.
We hated feeling trapped in those life jackets, stuck at the surface, and for me, the highlight was swimming next to a pelican that wasn’t too shy—it was paddling right beside me in green water.
Anyway, it seems we can’t post more than 10 photos at once on VF, so I’ll come back with the rest of the journal in another message. Because after these early trip mishaps, the rest of the journey turned out to be magnificent...
November 2024 Photo Contest: Art Nouveau Around the World
Hello!
With no authority whatsoever, I’m taking the liberty of relaunching the photo contests on VoyageForum, which is now active and alive again 😉
The theme for November 2024 is Art Nouveau, an artistic and architectural movement (1893 to 1913—just before, well, World War I) that has nothing to do with (or does it?) Art Deco, another artistic and architectural movement (1925 to 1940—right before World War II).
**Participation** Every VF member can submit up to 3 photos, until Monday, November 25 at 11:59 PM Brussels time. Each photo must be posted in a separate message, with its number (1, 2, or 3) indicated. Don’t forget to add a short explanation (commentary, location, etc.).
**Voting** Every VF member can vote for the 3 photos they consider the best, based on their own criteria and the theme. Voting will take place from Tuesday, November 26 to Saturday, November 30 at 11:59 PM Brussels time.
Photos will be ranked in order of preference: - 1st photo: 3 points - 2nd photo: 2 points - 3rd photo: 1 point
The winner is the photographer whose photo receives the most points. Results will be published on December 1. In case of a tie, the number of first-place votes will decide. The winner will have the honor of organizing December’s contest.
Photos that have already been nominated (1st, 2nd, or 3rd place) in another contest are not eligible for this one.
**Example of Art Nouveau architecture**
Victor Horta’s house and workshop (considered the "Father of Art Nouveau") on Rue Américaine in Saint-Gilles (Brussels, Belgium).
Villa Melchiorri, Via Cavour in Ferrara (Emilia-Romagna, Italy).
Art Nouveau Around the World – discussion post
With no authority whatsoever, I’m taking the liberty of relaunching the photo contests on VoyageForum, which is now active and alive again 😉
The theme for November 2024 is Art Nouveau, an artistic and architectural movement (1893 to 1913—just before, well, World War I) that has nothing to do with (or does it?) Art Deco, another artistic and architectural movement (1925 to 1940—right before World War II).
**Participation** Every VF member can submit up to 3 photos, until Monday, November 25 at 11:59 PM Brussels time. Each photo must be posted in a separate message, with its number (1, 2, or 3) indicated. Don’t forget to add a short explanation (commentary, location, etc.).
**Voting** Every VF member can vote for the 3 photos they consider the best, based on their own criteria and the theme. Voting will take place from Tuesday, November 26 to Saturday, November 30 at 11:59 PM Brussels time.
Photos will be ranked in order of preference: - 1st photo: 3 points - 2nd photo: 2 points - 3rd photo: 1 point
The winner is the photographer whose photo receives the most points. Results will be published on December 1. In case of a tie, the number of first-place votes will decide. The winner will have the honor of organizing December’s contest.
Photos that have already been nominated (1st, 2nd, or 3rd place) in another contest are not eligible for this one.
**Example of Art Nouveau architecture**
Victor Horta’s house and workshop (considered the "Father of Art Nouveau") on Rue Américaine in Saint-Gilles (Brussels, Belgium).
Villa Melchiorri, Via Cavour in Ferrara (Emilia-Romagna, Italy).
Art Nouveau Around the World – discussion post
Comprendre la Biélorussie actuelle English translation pending
Bonjour
Je vous partage cette belle interview avec Anais Marin, politologue, specialiste du pays. Un bel apercu pour comprendre ce qu'il se passe actuellement en Bielorussie (Belarus)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OtZOUgkfFg4&t
Do you ever feel jaded when you travel?
I find myself feeling more and more jaded when I travel these days.
Boredom sets in. I’m not saying I don’t like boredom, but long-term...
So, I end up thinking traveling doesn’t really make much sense anymore.
Do you ever feel this way?
Nat
Nat
Qantas va proposer des "rotations touristiques au dessus de l'Antarctique" English translation pending
Bonjour
Plus de voyageurs en international alors Qantas décollera en novembre pour des rotations touristique au dessus de l’Antarctique pour 12h 13 h de vols premier prix 730 euros en éco pour un siège au dessus de l'aile 🙁 4875 euros pour les meilleures places en affaire . vol en B787 dreamliner . avis aux amateurs lol
source air journal
Mich74
Croisière Ponant Marseille-Corse English translation pending
Bonsoir,
nous avons effectué cette croisière du 25 juillet au 1er aout. C'est vraiment une croisière dédiée aux randonneurs (il y a d'autres activités mais en minorités).
Donc comme c'est pas notre passion, on a été déçu. De très jolies paysages, de chouette visites guidées (trop peu) mais une majorité de randonnées.
C'est le première fois qu'on faisait Ponant, on était dans le bateau L'Austral, étions environ 60 croisiéristes avec quelques employés français (deux ou trois au bar, 4-5 au restaurant, et d'autres à la réception. Pour le reste, une majorité de Philippins pour les cabines bien sur, restaurant, bars, etc... (toujours aussi aimables, souriants, bravo à eux).
On trouve un petit théâtre avec 5 danseurs (qui ne se produisent pas tous les soirs, mais qui sont très doués), 2 chanteuses et un chanteur qui se produisent dans les bars en fonction des heures (que si on applaudit pas, personne n'applaudit.....bien triste tout cela). Et vers 23h00 il y a peu ou plus rien.
Dés l'embarquement, on nous change de numéro de cabine, durant la semaine 3 jours où wc hs le matin, on a eu aussi des drôles de réflexions de certains guides d'excursion..., et pas de chance, un moteur de la navette en pleine mer qui lâche. Le conducteur Philippin, bravo à lui nous a amené à quai avec un seul moteur.
Nous étions au pont 3, cabine avec balcon au départ 319, mais en fin compte on nous met au 317. On a pas eu d'explications, on sait juste qu'ils ont mis un guide des excursions à la cabine qui nous était attribué au départ...
Invités d'honneurs : Docteur Simes avec sa femme ou son amie, et un autre couple. Ponant a sorti le tapis rouge😄. Ils ont fait trois conférences, des excursions et semblent n'avoir eu aucun problème de wc 😏.
On ne connaissait pas Ponant, et bien pour nous on s'est trompé de croisière. Ils auraient du expliquer à la réservation qu'il y avait beaucoup de randonnées... Même un couple belge, ralaient un peu car ils n'avaient que leurs baskets (ce qui est suffisant selon les guides) mais ils auraient préféré leurs chaussures de randonnée.
Les visites guidée étaient très bien surtout à Calvi. Il y avait du canoé aussi mais on nous a dit qu'il fallait des choix.. On a pas pu en faire car le lundi complet, le mardi uniquement réservé aux familles, le mercredi on pouvait pas car visite guidée (notre choix) à Calvi, le jeudi il n'y en avait pas... et le vendredi visite guidée d'un jardin (notre choix aussi). Il pouvait y en avoir le vendredi après-midi, et bien non.
Enfin bref, on a pu sortir car Costa pour le moment est en croix, mais on ne devrait pas y revenir.
Cependant, pour les randonneurs c'est une superbe croisière. Mais attention en Corse et dans le Sud de la France le soleil tape fort, même si vous partez à 08h00. Certains ont souffert de la chaleur.
C'était une croisière avec beaucoup de croisiéristes très aisés, certains sympathiques, d'autres peu respectueux du personnel....(quelle honte quand même).
Le commandant de bord aimable, mais qui va souvent discuter avec les mêmes personnes. A part un bonjour, nous n'avons eu aucune discussion avec lui. Pourtant avec 60 croisiéristes à bord sur 180 je crois, il a le temps..... On le voyait tous les jours au restaurant, bars etc.. c'est pas lui qui était à la barre du bateau !!!
Donc, ben bien pour la sortie mais des déceptions, parfois grandes.
Voyagerez-vous avec appréhension? English translation pending
un gros avion est fait pour voler tout le temps. Ca pose tout un tas de problemes de maintenance pour le garder en état. Ne risque t'il pas d'y avoir des soucis sur les premiers vols commerciaux ?
une fois sur place reste les stigmates de la pandemie et il se peut que les autochtones regardent d un mauvais oeil. et qui sait, une rencontre avec une chauve souris ou un animal tropical un peu malade.
donc vous risquerez vous à voyager des que ca sera possible ou laisserez vous passer du temps afin de courir moins de risques et de subir moins d inconvenients ?
une fois sur place reste les stigmates de la pandemie et il se peut que les autochtones regardent d un mauvais oeil. et qui sait, une rencontre avec une chauve souris ou un animal tropical un peu malade.
donc vous risquerez vous à voyager des que ca sera possible ou laisserez vous passer du temps afin de courir moins de risques et de subir moins d inconvenients ?
Visites et hébergements à Prague English translation pending
Bonjour, normalement je devais aller à bran en Roumanie seul mais mon amie veut qu’on aille à Prague 2 nuits ou 3 nuits j’aimerai savoir y’a t’il une rue ou un boulevard ou quartier où tout est rassemblé pour visiter les principaux et on cherche un hôtel sympa avec une terrasse pour le petit-déjeuner toujours très central et bien sûr les cafés et les restaurants centraux aussi merci
Avis sur le Costa Luminosa English translation pending
Bonjour
Je regarde une croisière pour mai 2021, que pensez-vous de ce navire ?
Âge, entretien, ambiance, installations, cabine ( balcon), restaurant etc...?
Merci d.avance aux connaisseurs
Mlt2a
La compagnie thaïe NokScoot va disparaître à son tour English translation pending
Bonjour,
La crise du COVID-19 fait comme prévu malheureusement des dégâts collatéraux;
https://www.journal-aviation.com/actualites/44722-nokscoot-va-disparaitre-a-son-tour
La crise du COVID-19 fait comme prévu malheureusement des dégâts collatéraux;
https://www.journal-aviation.com/actualites/44722-nokscoot-va-disparaitre-a-son-tour
Un jour à Bruges-la-morte, sur un coup de tête English translation pending
Bruges-la-Morte est le titre d'un roman de la fin du ... XIXème siècle. Autant vous dire que je ne l'ai pas lu et n'ai aucune envie de le faire. Mais j'aime bien cette expression 😛
Coup de tête est le titre d'un film avec Patrick Dewaere mais ça n'a rien à voir avec les quelques heures que j'ai passées à Bruges le lundi 15 juin dernier même si le Football Club de Brugge (avec 2 G comme dans grande gueule) a été couronné champion de Belgique cette année.
En fait je ne connaissais pas Bruges/Brugge et je me suis dit que ce serait intéressant de découvrir la ville, surnommée la Venise du Nord (quelle drôle de comparaison - probablement des gens qui ne connaissent pas Venezia), dans des conditions exceptionnelles à cause de la pandémie de coronavirus. Et ce fut le cas.
Pas un chat (ni de chien) dans le train départ de Bruxelles Midi à 9h28, trajet 1 heure.
Pas plus de chien ni de chat dans la ville. Quelques autochtones et quelques vélos.
Dès l'entrée dans la vieille ville, le Béguinage
où trottinent de vieilles nonnettes
à deux pas du Béguinage et rien n'empêche de commencer par là, le Minnewater ou Lac d'Amour à contempler depuis le Park Bridge d'où la photo ci-dessous a été prise
après avoir déambulé dans le grand jardin du Béguinage je suis sorti par le Begijnhof et son pont enjambant un canal
- Tiens qui c'est ce playboy ? - Comment ! vous ne regardez pas la télévision ? - Heu ! si, mais je ne vois pas qui c'est ! - Mais c'est Ronn Moss ! - Jamais entendu parler !
Le même pont l'année dernière au mois de Juin ... mais sans Ronn Moss 🤪
https://www.google.com/maps/@51.2018333,3.2238783,3a,75y,188.53h,85.75t/data=!3m8!1e1!3m6!1sAF1QipNzRP3p6o2EG6rM_h3WuWFCNBdcRxhX1o0FE8na!2e10!3e11!6shttps:%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipNzRP3p6o2EG6rM_h3WuWFCNBdcRxhX1o0FE8na%3Dw203-h100-k-no-pi8.46488-ya76.961555-ro2.4653096-fo100!7i5376!8i2688
Quelques vélos disais-je
Tiens nouvelle limite de photos par message : 10 !
La suite avec encore des vélos mais aussi des canaux dans notre prochain épisode 😏
Coup de tête est le titre d'un film avec Patrick Dewaere mais ça n'a rien à voir avec les quelques heures que j'ai passées à Bruges le lundi 15 juin dernier même si le Football Club de Brugge (avec 2 G comme dans grande gueule) a été couronné champion de Belgique cette année.
En fait je ne connaissais pas Bruges/Brugge et je me suis dit que ce serait intéressant de découvrir la ville, surnommée la Venise du Nord (quelle drôle de comparaison - probablement des gens qui ne connaissent pas Venezia), dans des conditions exceptionnelles à cause de la pandémie de coronavirus. Et ce fut le cas.
Pas un chat (ni de chien) dans le train départ de Bruxelles Midi à 9h28, trajet 1 heure.
Pas plus de chien ni de chat dans la ville. Quelques autochtones et quelques vélos.
Dès l'entrée dans la vieille ville, le Béguinage
où trottinent de vieilles nonnettes
à deux pas du Béguinage et rien n'empêche de commencer par là, le Minnewater ou Lac d'Amour à contempler depuis le Park Bridge d'où la photo ci-dessous a été prise
après avoir déambulé dans le grand jardin du Béguinage je suis sorti par le Begijnhof et son pont enjambant un canal
- Tiens qui c'est ce playboy ? - Comment ! vous ne regardez pas la télévision ? - Heu ! si, mais je ne vois pas qui c'est ! - Mais c'est Ronn Moss ! - Jamais entendu parler !
Le même pont l'année dernière au mois de Juin ... mais sans Ronn Moss 🤪
https://www.google.com/maps/@51.2018333,3.2238783,3a,75y,188.53h,85.75t/data=!3m8!1e1!3m6!1sAF1QipNzRP3p6o2EG6rM_h3WuWFCNBdcRxhX1o0FE8na!2e10!3e11!6shttps:%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipNzRP3p6o2EG6rM_h3WuWFCNBdcRxhX1o0FE8na%3Dw203-h100-k-no-pi8.46488-ya76.961555-ro2.4653096-fo100!7i5376!8i2688
Quelques vélos disais-je
Tiens nouvelle limite de photos par message : 10 !
La suite avec encore des vélos mais aussi des canaux dans notre prochain épisode 😏
Qu'est devenu l'agence Azur Croisières transférée à Monaco? English translation pending
Bonjour à tous
Je viens de constater que mon Agence préférée AZUR CROISIERES a été transférée à MONACO.
Je me demande si les prestations habituelles et la responsabilité de cette nouvelle affectation ne poseront pas problème compte tenu des responsabilités juridiques des compagnies monégasques ...
J'aimerais connaître vos avis
Merci
Je viens de constater que mon Agence préférée AZUR CROISIERES a été transférée à MONACO.
Je me demande si les prestations habituelles et la responsabilité de cette nouvelle affectation ne poseront pas problème compte tenu des responsabilités juridiques des compagnies monégasques ...
J'aimerais connaître vos avis
Merci
Suisse, pays de lacs et montagnes du 16 au 28 mai 2020 English translation pending
Bonjour,
Comme pour beaucoup de voyageurs, le Coronavirus a perturbé nos plans pour cette année. Notre road trip au Pérou est tombé à l’eau et la fermeture des frontières ne nous permettait pas de quitter la Suisse.
Heureusement, en Suisse, nous n’avons pas subi un confinement strict et nous pouvions nous déplacer librement dans le pays, en respectant certaines règles (distance de 2 mètres entres les personnes, rassemblements de maximum 5 personnes). De plus, une semaine avant notre départ, les magasins, restaurants et musées pouvaient ouvrir. Par contre, les campings, télécabines et télésièges sont restés fermés jusqu’au 6 juin.
Nous avons décidé de ne pas préparer un itinéraire fixe. Le but principal était le canton des Grisons que nous connaissions très peu. Pour y aller et pour revenir, nous avons traversé d’autres cantons où nous avons profité de faire des visites et randonnées. Certains endroits nous étaient bien connus, mais les voir sans les touristes habituels, asiatiques, indiens et américains, change complètement la perception des lieux. Imaginez, le fameux pont de la Chapelle à Lucerne, sans les hordes de touristes asiatiques qui l’envahissent tous les jours.
Nous avons loué un van, afin d’être autonome et libre. Notre choix s’est porté sur le VW California Ocean. Ce van est passe-partout, on peut facilement emprunter toutes les petites routes de montagnes et se parquer partout. Seul inconvénient, il n’a pas de salle de bain. La douche se fait à l’extérieur (eau froide), mais nous avons des toilettes portables. Le California Ocean est équipé avec une petite cuisine (un réchaud à gaz avec deux feux, un frigo de 42 litres, un petit évier). Il y a des placards sous la cuisine, au-dessus de la banquette et à l’arrière, ainsi qu’un grand tiroir sous la banquette. Les sièges avant se tournent, il y a deux tables, une à l’intérieur et une autre, encastrée dans la portière, pour l’extérieur. Les deux chaises pour l’extérieur sont encastrées dans la porte du coffre. Le toit se lève, on peut donc se mettre debout à l’intérieur du van. Le lit sous le toit est confortable, avec son sommier sur lequel sont fixé des ressorts. Un store extérieur nous protège du soleil lorsqu’on est à l’arrêt. Le chauffage stationnaire est bien agréable pour chauffer l’habitacle lorsqu’il fait froid. Il y a aussi plusieurs prises, dont une qui fonctionne avec la deuxième batterie et permet de charger le téléphone, tablette, etc. la nuit. Bref, ce petit van est vraiment fonctionnel.
Au dernier moment, nous avons décidé de prendre notre chien Tidou avec nous. Il a fallu adapter nos randonnées et visites. Eh oui, notre Tidou n’est plus tout jeune et il a des soucis avec son dos. Nous avons acheté un sac à dos spécifique, pour pouvoir le porter en terrain abrupte et lorsqu’il sera trop fatigué.
Nous avons chargé l’application park4night sur nos iPhones. Cette application est bien utile pour trouver des emplacements pour passer la nuit. Contrairement, à ce que l’on peut souvent lire, nous n’avons rencontré aucune difficulté pour passer la nuit. Le camping sauvage est donc possible en Suisse, si on ne s’installe pas pour plusieurs jours au même endroit. Concernant l’eau potable, on trouve de nombreuses fontaines, le plus souvent avec de l’eau potable.
Comme pour beaucoup de voyageurs, le Coronavirus a perturbé nos plans pour cette année. Notre road trip au Pérou est tombé à l’eau et la fermeture des frontières ne nous permettait pas de quitter la Suisse.
Heureusement, en Suisse, nous n’avons pas subi un confinement strict et nous pouvions nous déplacer librement dans le pays, en respectant certaines règles (distance de 2 mètres entres les personnes, rassemblements de maximum 5 personnes). De plus, une semaine avant notre départ, les magasins, restaurants et musées pouvaient ouvrir. Par contre, les campings, télécabines et télésièges sont restés fermés jusqu’au 6 juin.
Nous avons décidé de ne pas préparer un itinéraire fixe. Le but principal était le canton des Grisons que nous connaissions très peu. Pour y aller et pour revenir, nous avons traversé d’autres cantons où nous avons profité de faire des visites et randonnées. Certains endroits nous étaient bien connus, mais les voir sans les touristes habituels, asiatiques, indiens et américains, change complètement la perception des lieux. Imaginez, le fameux pont de la Chapelle à Lucerne, sans les hordes de touristes asiatiques qui l’envahissent tous les jours.
Nous avons loué un van, afin d’être autonome et libre. Notre choix s’est porté sur le VW California Ocean. Ce van est passe-partout, on peut facilement emprunter toutes les petites routes de montagnes et se parquer partout. Seul inconvénient, il n’a pas de salle de bain. La douche se fait à l’extérieur (eau froide), mais nous avons des toilettes portables. Le California Ocean est équipé avec une petite cuisine (un réchaud à gaz avec deux feux, un frigo de 42 litres, un petit évier). Il y a des placards sous la cuisine, au-dessus de la banquette et à l’arrière, ainsi qu’un grand tiroir sous la banquette. Les sièges avant se tournent, il y a deux tables, une à l’intérieur et une autre, encastrée dans la portière, pour l’extérieur. Les deux chaises pour l’extérieur sont encastrées dans la porte du coffre. Le toit se lève, on peut donc se mettre debout à l’intérieur du van. Le lit sous le toit est confortable, avec son sommier sur lequel sont fixé des ressorts. Un store extérieur nous protège du soleil lorsqu’on est à l’arrêt. Le chauffage stationnaire est bien agréable pour chauffer l’habitacle lorsqu’il fait froid. Il y a aussi plusieurs prises, dont une qui fonctionne avec la deuxième batterie et permet de charger le téléphone, tablette, etc. la nuit. Bref, ce petit van est vraiment fonctionnel.
Au dernier moment, nous avons décidé de prendre notre chien Tidou avec nous. Il a fallu adapter nos randonnées et visites. Eh oui, notre Tidou n’est plus tout jeune et il a des soucis avec son dos. Nous avons acheté un sac à dos spécifique, pour pouvoir le porter en terrain abrupte et lorsqu’il sera trop fatigué.
Nous avons chargé l’application park4night sur nos iPhones. Cette application est bien utile pour trouver des emplacements pour passer la nuit. Contrairement, à ce que l’on peut souvent lire, nous n’avons rencontré aucune difficulté pour passer la nuit. Le camping sauvage est donc possible en Suisse, si on ne s’installe pas pour plusieurs jours au même endroit. Concernant l’eau potable, on trouve de nombreuses fontaines, le plus souvent avec de l’eau potable.
Quel patin pour quelle jante? (à vélo) English translation pending
Voilà, cet automne je me suis fait construire deux belles roues en prévision d'un nouveau long voyage à vélo et 2000 kms plus tard je m'aperçois que mes jantes consomment de la gomme à une vitesse folle 😕.
Je suis toujours un peu un blaireau des bois concernant tout ce qui est un tant soit peu technique, donc j'ai besoin des lumières des mécanos virtuoses de ce fil.
J'ai un système de freins sur jante " classique " à cantilevers Deore LX.
Mes jeux de roues précédents, sur lesquels je faisais environ 30 000 kms avant de les remiser au grenier, avaient pour base des jantes Ryde Big Bull. Je n'ai jamais eu aucun souci avec elles, et mes patins duraient vraiment longtemps, même en montagne ou sur des pistes bien poussiéreuses ou boueuses.
Cette fois mon artisan a utilisé des jantes Ryde 19 C x 559. M'apercevant que le freinage n'était pas aussi performant et que je devais ajuster l'étrier en permanence j'ai inspecté ces jantes et je me suis aperçu qu'elles étaient légèrement rainurées ( elles ne sont pas lisses comme celles que j'avais auparavant ). Je pense que c'est ce grain sur la surface qui accélère l'usure de la gomme. Cela va vraiment très vite !
Voici mes questions :
- Quel est l'intérêt de concevoir de telles jantes ? - Y-a-t-il différentes qualités de gomme suivant les marques de patins ( je les achète nus, sans les boîtiers ) ?
L.
Je suis toujours un peu un blaireau des bois concernant tout ce qui est un tant soit peu technique, donc j'ai besoin des lumières des mécanos virtuoses de ce fil.
J'ai un système de freins sur jante " classique " à cantilevers Deore LX.
Mes jeux de roues précédents, sur lesquels je faisais environ 30 000 kms avant de les remiser au grenier, avaient pour base des jantes Ryde Big Bull. Je n'ai jamais eu aucun souci avec elles, et mes patins duraient vraiment longtemps, même en montagne ou sur des pistes bien poussiéreuses ou boueuses.
Cette fois mon artisan a utilisé des jantes Ryde 19 C x 559. M'apercevant que le freinage n'était pas aussi performant et que je devais ajuster l'étrier en permanence j'ai inspecté ces jantes et je me suis aperçu qu'elles étaient légèrement rainurées ( elles ne sont pas lisses comme celles que j'avais auparavant ). Je pense que c'est ce grain sur la surface qui accélère l'usure de la gomme. Cela va vraiment très vite !
Voici mes questions :
- Quel est l'intérêt de concevoir de telles jantes ? - Y-a-t-il différentes qualités de gomme suivant les marques de patins ( je les achète nus, sans les boîtiers ) ?
L.
L'industrie de la musique à l'arrêt mardi contre les violences policières English translation pending
Conseils pour la visite de l'île d'Hokkaido au nord du Japon English translation pending
Bonjour,
Je voulais savoir si quelqu'un avait déjà eu l'occasion de visiter l'île d'Hokkaido au Japon. Si oui, est-ce que vous auriez des conseils de ville/lieux/activités à me proposer ? Merci !
Je voulais savoir si quelqu'un avait déjà eu l'occasion de visiter l'île d'Hokkaido au Japon. Si oui, est-ce que vous auriez des conseils de ville/lieux/activités à me proposer ? Merci !