Results for "Udine+|+9+>+215"

😊 Bonjour,

Nous allons à playa pesquero, une semaine, nous sommes à notre premier voyage et j'attend parler des excursions à faire genre, cigares et rhum, les dauphins etc... Comment on fait pour savoir qu'elle jour sont les activités? à quelle heure? et à quel prix? Qui va nous en parler? Est-ce quelqu'un qui parle français ou anglais va nous expliquer ça?

MERCI de m'éclairer sur ce sujet (ça va m'enlever un peu de stress avant de partir si je sais quoi faire car je ne veux pas manquer les activités surtout pas les dauphins)

J'aimerais aussi savoir si on a le droit de rapporter du rhum et des cigares de notre voyage, si oui combien par personne?

Merci de vos informations!!!

Salut !

J'aimerais savoir si l'Inde en solo c'est facile. Je souhaite partir SEULE mais y-a-t-il de gros risques ? J'ai un trés petit budget. Est-ce bon marché là-bas ?

Qu'est-ce qui vous a plus là-bas ? Quels vaccins doit-on avoir avant d'y entrer ? Quelles formalités sont a faire pour y rester 2 ou 3 mois ? Est-ce facile de circuler et de se loger pour pas cher ? La location d'un véhicule est-il couteux ? Peut-on y acheter facilement une vielle voiture ? Le covoiturage est-il possible ?

Les Indiens sont-ils accueillants ?

Merci pour vos réponses.

Nous voici de retour de Boca Chica, ou nous avons passés 15 jours au Dominican Bay.

Que dire a part que nous sommes vraiment déprimés, on a le mal du pays…

Voici le commentaire complet de notre séjour pour ceux qui s’apprête à partir dans le même hôtel .Notre voyage a été organisé par SWITCH.

SWITCH

La prestation est correcte cependant ne compter pas sur eux si vous avez un problème là bas. Gardez à l’esprit que le vol retour est sujet a changement évitez donc de réserver des correspondances au départ de Paris pour votre retour. (notre avion était prévu à 17h15 et nous avons décoller a 23h…)

Sinon nous sommes arrivé à l’endroit prévu, ce qui était promis nous l’avons eu…

Au sujet des excursions ne vous faites pas avoir par la petite réunion d’information à votre arrivée, ils disent que c’est pour confirmer le vol retour mais la réunion sert à vous convaincre qu’avec eux c’est ce qu’il y a de mieux et de plus sûr. C’est tout a fait faux, les excursions n’ont pas satisfait tout le monde…et pour le prix….je vous laisse juge : nous avons payer 50 euros pour Saona SWITCH fait payer 74 euros. Pour le safari nous avons payer 40 euros et switch le propose a 70 euros. Le secret ??? Pour la même prestation, moins chère et complètement sûr( pour l’avoir fait je vous l’assure) c’est ERIKA !!allez à Boca Chica dans la Calle duarte. Ca vaut le coût de chercher, c’est tout près de l’hôtel. Elle vous fait des prix si vous êtes plusieurs, si vous êtes tout seul ?? Pas de panique, si vous prenez 2 excursions elle vous fait aussi des prix…

SURTOUT PAS AVEC L’HOTEL !!!!!!!! ne vous laissez pas tenter, à la fin de la réunion j’ai failli craquer…mais une dame est venu nous dire que c l’arnaque totale, et en plus lors d’une sortie en mer switch a renverser des pêcheurs et n’ai pas aller les aider…a vous de juger.

COMPAGNIE AERIENNE

En général Switch travaille avec CORSAIR qui est une bonne compagnie. Mais tout peut changer, nous avons eu (et c’est vraiment rare) la chance de voyager avec Air France à bord d’un boeing 747 .Au retour nous avons eux AERIS c’est nettement moins bien que AIR France et Corsair mais le voyage s’est très bien passé.

CHAMBRE A L’HOTEL

Ce que tout le monde dit est vrai les meilleurs bâtiments sont les 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, nous sommes tombé dans le bâtiment 9 à notre arrivée, honnêtement la chambre est jolie aux couleurs locales, très grande mais nous étions à côté de l’animation et on est pas difficile mais quand même c’est vraiment trop bruyant. Dans notre chambre, pas de lumière, une colonies de fourmis, un lézard qui se balade sur les murs…mais c’est pas très grave, quelqu’un est tout de suite venu nous arranger ça. Je précise cela pour que vous ne soyez pas surpris, dans les anciens bâtiments cela arrive d’avoir ces surprises. Si le bruit n’ai pas un problème pour vous, la chambre vous conviendra. Nous avons demandé à changer de chambre, et le lendemain ça a été fait, il faut retourner à la réception plusieurs fois ne pas hésiter et demander avec le sourire et vous serez servis. Il n’y a pas de problème dans ce pays…alors ne vous en créez pas .Dans les bâtiment 17 la femme de ménage est un amour, elle nous mettait tout les jours des fleurs qu’elle cueillait le matin dans notre salle de bain a côté du lavabo…si vous pouvez donner lui un petit quelque chose le personnel ne gagne pas bien sa vie et ils sont supers…nous nous serons pas plus pauvre de quelques dollars.

RESTAURANT

Le restaurant où se trouve le buffet s’appelle l’HIBISCUS, il est ouvert à 7h jusqu'à 10h le matin de 12h à 14h et 18h à 10h maxi. On y trouve de tout, riz patates pâtes, légumes locaux, crudités, fruits locaux, desserts diverses, boissons à volonté, le restaurant est joli très intime je trouve. Je pense que tout le monde peut y trouver son compte, après on peut se lasser ou non, cela dépend de chacun mais ils font beaucoup d’efforts pour varier les plats et les cuissons…le meilleur c’est le petit déj !!!!!!!! Beignet, pancake, pain grillé, on peut y trouver des saucisses, des omelettes, des frites… !!!! Chacun y trouve son bonheur je vous dit !

Sinon sur la plage de 12h à 14h on peut se faire son hamburger, son hot-dog, avec frites, crudités, fruits, pâtes, et riz il y a aussi un snack de ce type à la grande piscine celui la ferme à 17h. Toute boissons à volonté toute la journée, il y a un bar à la plage, à la grande piscine et à la petite. Vous pouvez boire sans crainte l’eau proposer à l’hôtel. Vous avez droit à des repas dans un chinois de l’hôtel et un italien, l’italien est sur la plage c’est sympa mais en soirée prévoyez les produits pour moustiques. Le chinois m’a beaucoup plu, l’italien est pas mal…

PLAGE

On doit traverser un agréable petit chemin pour arriver à l’encart de la plage la mer est vraiment turquoise !! Magnifique !! Le coin est superbe, la fameuse usine que tout le monde critique n’est visible que si on le veut bien, à vous de poser un regard positif, honnêtement on y fait plus attention, elle est loin et pas gênante dans ce paysage magnifique. On a toujours un transat, on peut y faire du kayak gratuitement, l’eau est chaude et peut profonde. Il y a une mangrove au fond on peut y aller à la nage et la bas vous verrez des poissons des crabes…et quelques autres animaux. Allez y en kayak c’est génial. Beaucoup de vendeur vienne vous proposez plein de chose, on peut vraiment négocier et avoir beaucoup de chose pas cher, les vendeurs sont très sympathiques, ils insistent peu et si c’est le cas dites leur merci fermement ils vous laisseront tranquilles. Et s’ils vous dérangent vraiment, ne les rejeté pas, à vous de vous déplacer pour ne plus les entendre si c’est votre souhait, nous avons vu des personnes odieuses avec ces personnes qui ne cherchent qu’à gagner leur vie. N’oubliez vous que nous sommes les hôtes et pas l’inverse.

LES ANIMATIONS

Que dire ??? C’est génial !! Les animateurs sont superbes, adorables, toujours en train de rire, de vous impliquer, les soirées, je vous laisse les découvrir toujours différentes, les animateurs sont de très beaux dominicains ce qui ne gâchent rien, si vous souhaitez apprendre à danser les danse locales, se sera l’occasion. N’hésitez pas à vous inscrire sur les liste pour jouer, a faire de l’aérobic, de l’aquagym…on passe toujours un bon moment. Un clin d’œil spécial pour FABIOLA, si vous la rencontrez vous comprendrez…( le soir, c’est l’occasion de découvrir les cocktail locaux !!!!!!) plein de tendresse pour l’animation excellente…muy profesional.

PISCINE

La petite piscine est peu fréquenté si vous voulez être tranquille allez y, la grande piscine accueille beaucoup de monde donc elle est parfois un peu sale (insectes, herbes…) rien de grave.

LA MUSIQUE

Il existe 3 types de musiques locales dans ce pays, le merengue, le bachata, la salsa. La musique fait partie du paysage, il y en a partout !!!!!! on en peut pas quitter le pays sans acheter un CD sinon le retour est trop dur. L’Hôtel vend le CD de l’animation sinon a boca chica il y en a et si vous allez a St Domingue, vous trouverez des vendeurs. Vérifiez tout de même que le Cd soit dans la boîte.

LA SANTE

Il y a des risques plus ou moins grands et plus ou moins gênants. Personnellement j’ai eu la diarrhée tout les jours, prévoyez bien des imossel ou imodium, des laxatifs sont inutiles a mon avis, je n’étais vraiment pas la seule dans ce cas, même si on peut tout manger à l’hôtel sans se soucier, il arrive d’être malade, mais cela n’a pas gêner mon séjour, je me suis mise au riz et j’ai bu moins de pina colada, si vous avez la diarrhée ralentissez sur les cocktails certains favorise bien le transit (coco loco la pina…) prévoyer des motillium la nausée est possible souvent…en cas de diarhée buvez beaucoup manger léger et des féculents si vraiment ça va pas il y a un docteur mais la consultation est de 50 dollars. N’y aller pas trop vite, parfois une journée suffit ….à vous de juger.

Emmener bien vos produit pour moustiques…on se fait piquer quand même mais très peu, beaucoup les premier jours et après plus du tout.

Quand vous acheter de l’eau à l’extérieur acheter des bouteilles fermées.

Le soleil est vraiment costaud, on peut avoir des tâches brunes sur les bras ou ailleurs, c’est rien de grave, mais ralentissez l’exposition, protégez vous bien, on a vu plus d’un complètement brûler, « c’est pas le même soleil » que celui du Sud il est plus fort…

BONJOUR,

J'AI RESERVE AVEC DES AMIS UN SEJOUR DE 16 NUITS DANS CET HOTEL AVEC UN DEPART LE 12/07/03.

SERAIT-IL POSSIBLE D'AVOIR QUELQUES AVIS SUR CET HOTEL DE LA PART DE PERSONNES QUI AURAIENT SEJOURNEES RECEMMENT DANS CE LIEU ? LA PLAGE ET LE SITE DANS SON ENSEMBLE SONT-ILS AGREABLE ?

PAR AVANCE MERCI.

🙁 j'ai peur d'attraper la dengue je me suis renseigneé un peu sur le net

pour d'eventuelles lotions anti moustiques mais pour ceux qui sont deja partis quelques petits trucs et conseils serait bienvenus😮

merçi

j'envisage cet hiver, de partir à Hurghada, mais je n'ai aucune idée du climat à cette période.

si quelqu'un peut me renseigner.😕

température de l'air, mer, etc...j'hésite avec le sénegal.

merci de vos réponses

isabelle😉

bonjour,

nous voulons aller plonger aux maldives en famille aves des enfants de 7 et 9 ans.

pendant les plongées, les enfants restent sur l'ile.

Avez-vous une ile à nous conseiller?

Nous pensons à bandos.

Les enfants ne parlant que français, nous avons peur qu'ils s'ennuient.

Merci de vos infos.

Pat

salut a tous.. tout le monde parle des tensions politiques en ameriques central..!

y a t-ils des gens qui reviennent de l'amerique central pour me dire comment sa ce passe pour vraie...!!!

je part pour 4 mois dans 3 trois semaine...!!!

juste pour avoir la bonne version des faits..!!!!

merci.!! eric

Hi everyone,

We’re planning our second trip to Thailand (2 weeks on-site, late April/early May) as a family with our 5- and 7-year-olds.

On our first trip, we visited Bangkok, Ayutthaya, the River Kwai, Koh Lipe, Koh Phi Phi, and Khao Lak. We especially loved Koh Phi Phi for its limestone cliffs and lush vegetation, as well as Koh Lipe for its crystal-clear waters and snorkeling.

This time, I’m thinking of spending 7 days on the islands. I was considering Koh Tao and Koh Phangan. We’d like some scenery, snorkeling right from the beach, and a bit of atmosphere—but not too much (just enough to grab dinner in the evening).

For the other part of the trip, we’re torn between Chiang Mai and Khao Sok. One or the other… or both? We don’t want to rush, but we’re really nature-focused, so we won’t be hitting too many temples…

Thanks in advance for your tips and experiences!

Another long-time dream of Claudio’s: the Petit Mont Cenis pass and the dam at the eponymous lake. A place where many Italians, including my father, worked in the 1950s–60s. Faverges → St-Michel-de-Maurienne → Lanslebourg → Petit Mont Cenis → return. 315 km, 3 days. Bivouac at St-Michel-de-M. Brouter link

Leg One: Faverges → St-Michel-de-Maurienne Leg Two: St-Michel → Lanslebourg → Mont Cenis Lake → St-Michel Leg Three: St-Michel → Faverges

And it finally happened in August 2026: in the Maurienne Valley about the famous cycle route known as the V67

hi there,

I’m heading to the Dominican Republic (Punta Cana) at the end of October for 10 days at an all-inclusive hotel with my wife and kids (ages 8 and 10). Since I’m not a fan of spending entire days at the hotel, I was wondering what the best way(s) to explore the area might be.

Last year, I went to Mexico and rented a car, so I initially thought about doing the same here—but this time, I’d get full-coverage insurance, which I didn’t do in Mexico. After checking a few forums and reviews, though, I’m really second-guessing it because some posts make it sound completely crazy to drive there.

So, I’d love to hear from anyone who’s been there recently and rented a car, as well as the different ways to get around while you’re there.

Thanks everyone! !

Autumn 2025 marks my 11th trip to Japan. I’ve neglected the south for too long, so like last year, it’s my main destination again.

We’ll revisit some familiar spots, but of course, we’ll also try plenty of new things. This trip feels a bit strange—no more of that initial magic, but on the other hand, we’ve really explored some off-the-beaten-path and private locations. The variety of regions, landscapes, and vehicles I’ve photographed is pretty remarkable. In search of vintage trains and threatened lines, I think my future trips will follow the same vibe.

After the 2017 and 2024 travel journals, it’s time to dive into Japan’s lesser-known side—all by public transport, of course. Day 1, arrival in Tokyo

The timing won’t be like other years since we arrive at Narita in the mid-afternoon after a layover in Hong Kong.

The only real mission for this afternoon is picking up tickets for the next day. And already, the first travel stress: I’ll have to rewrite the entire day because the Revaty Kinu 109 to Kinugawaonsen is fully booked, just like all the morning trains. So instead of a relaxed start exploring Ueno, I’m back to scrutinizing schedules. I manage to snag something last-minute after struggling for hours. Then, I wait for a message from Seiichi to meet up for dinner. Meeting friends on the first day and staying up late with jet lag—like I said, this trip isn’t like the others.

A great evening at a place I love.

Hi everyone,

As promised, here’s my review of the cruise I took from the 5th to the 19th on the MSC Virtuosa.

As you know, I had initially booked a cruise with Mein Schiff departing from Dubai (from Dubai to Cape Town). It was a 22-day cruise. Due to the issues in the Persian Gulf, my cruise was canceled by Mein Schiff.

So, we started looking for a Plan B because we really wanted to go. Especially my wife, who had just had a minor procedure and needed some rest. Since she had already taken time off, she was determined to travel. However, we were looking for an affordable Plan B since we weren’t sure when Mein Schiff or the airline would reimburse us.

While browsing online, I found a 15-day cruise departing from Pointe-à-Pitre (including flights, transfers, the cruise, and drinks) for a price of 1,200 € in a Fantastica balcony cabin. We thought, *Why not?*

I should mention that I’m not usually a big fan of MSC. My last experience with them was post-Covid (I took two cruises, one in 2021 and another in 2022), and it was honestly a disaster. We didn’t want to repeat that, but after talking to Catherine, who told me she was very happy with a short Christmas cruise, we decided to give it a try.

I have to say, I was left speechless. Honestly, the cruise was absolutely perfect. There’s nothing to complain about (or just a few minor details). In terms of service and food, I felt like I was on a premium cruise line. I’d even say MSC has nothing to envy from some of those companies. While premium lines like Holland, Celebrity, and Royal are cutting back on services, I think MSC has made huge improvements. Seriously, I wasn’t expecting this at all. You’ll see what I mean as we chat more.

I won’t do a full review like I usually do because there weren’t many stops: 1. We boarded in Pointe-à-Pitre 2. We stopped in Saint-Martin 3. Then it was a direct crossing to the Azores...

This cruise was really about relaxing, even if it’s not the kind of trip we usually take.

First off, I’m not a big fan of "flight and cruise" packages. I asked if we could leave two days early, but they said it wasn’t possible. We had to take the flight, then the bus, and board the ship directly.

It’s not really my thing, but given the price we paid and since we really wanted to relax, we thought, *Why not?*

Here’s the itinerary:

Boarding in Pointe-à-Pitre Saint-Martin Five days at sea The Azores Four days at sea Hamburg One day at sea Le Havre



But as I mentioned, it wasn’t about the itinerary. It was really about taking a break and unwinding. Honestly, I came back thrilled.

Departure and boarding details to come

Here we go—finally, the big day has arrived! A trip the whole family (my two kids, my husband, and me) had been looking forward to for so long. To keep it short, we left from Nice, arrived in Namibia on June 25, 2025, and left again on the 21st—four weeks later. We used an agency for all the camping reservations, activities, and the car rental. At least that side of things was taken care of. Michaël was our contact throughout the planning and the trip itself.

We spent our first night at Londiningi BB. A bit out of the city center but very quiet. The rooms were spacious and clean, and we could eat on-site that evening. Perfect for recovering from the flight.

Hi there,

Last February, I made a trip using "public transport" from France to southern Senegal via Spain, Morocco, Western Sahara, and Mauritania.

It’s a journey of about 5,000 km, where I took trains (as far as Marrakech), ferries (to cross Gibraltar and then to reach Casamance from Dakar), and mostly buses on the long desert straightaways. I hadn’t planned any stops in advance or booked any hotels, except for the very first train to Spain, which left plenty of room for the unexpected. Why travel by land and sea? In recent years, flight-free travel has been gaining popularity. On social media, posts explaining how to cross Europe by train as quickly as possible go viral. Traveling without flying—and making sure people know about it—has become a great way to earn a badge of eco-responsibility: an essential totem for anyone wanting to prove both their dedication to the ecological cause and the wisdom of slow travel. I haven’t flown in years, and this journey to West Africa could easily be filed under "responsible travel." But it wouldn’t be honest to say that: in reality, it wasn’t really my aversion to flying that motivated this long trek. I see overland travel primarily as a way to experience the world’s geography at a grounded, earthly pace—the pace of the locals. Besides, I’ll be flying back, which disqualifies any claim to being a model of sustainability. So no eco-badge, and no adventurer’s badge either: you won’t find any heroic tales of camel rides in lost lands or mineral train wagons in this account (popular with influencers, the Mauritania iron ore train now attracts tourists from all over the world, turning "the experience" into something you "have to do at least once in your life"). This five-part story, written on the road, has no other ambition than to recount a journey through places and people, and to share the thoughts they inspire in me. As simply and, I hope, as humbly as possible.

I’m posting the episodes here, which you can also find on my blog (with more photos) at the following links:

Episode 1: Spain, from Avignon to Algeciras

Episode 2: Morocco, from Tangier to Tarfaya

Episode 3: Western Sahara, from Tarfaya to Guerguerat

Episode 4: Mauritania, from Guerguerat to Nouakchott

Episode 5: Senegal, from Rosso to Saloulou

To help those who might want to make the same trip, I’ve also put together a summary of the route with recommendations—you can read it at the end of the story and on the blog: From France to Senegal Without Flying: Route and Itinerary Recommendations

Happy reading, and safe travels!

Day 1 – December 6

Our decision is our decision. And it’s firm and final. Next winter, our plane will spread its great wings toward the island of Ceylon! "Wait a minute... Ceylon... Ceylon... that name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it on the globe Grandma gave me for Christmas! Ceylon... Oh right, I’ve got it: Ceylon is the name of my tea!" Exactly. But the name on your pretty tea box is also the one used until 1972 for this island nation, a speck on the Indian Ocean at the southern tip of the Indian subcontinent: Sri Lanka!

For this new adventure, I’m exceptionally leaving my Flo behind, cowardly replaced by a double dose of testosterone. To write the book of this journey with me, I’m bringing along my brother, who’s used to this kind of thing, and... a guest star: My model of resilience. My dad! All aboard! Or rather, all aboard our tuk-tuk! Yes, you read that right: A real tuk-tuk, a little colorful rolling box that putters along at two miles an hour. The idea? Well, Sri Lanka and its winding roads overlooking the vastness of lush nature are tailor-made for this kind of vehicle. And since it’s one of only two countries in the world that allow foreigners to rent and drive these mini speedsters, we’ll be crisscrossing the island in our two-square-meter rolling box. Plus, adopting this mode of transport is a surefire way to connect directly with the locals, who’ll surely be curious to see a foreigner driving their iconic vehicle. Not to mention the... let’s say... spicy anecdotes it might generate. I mean, heading into a subtropical zone with my jet-black dad and his unpredictable digestive flora while deliberately choosing the tuk-tuk as our *only* means of transport? That’s the winning combo for an unforgettable adventure! "More seriously, Dad, Sullivan, I’m already loving the idea of living this adventure together, the three of us—brothers and father..."

So, does the intro to this new adventure get your salivary glands going? Yes? Too bad. Because unfortunately, the program handed out by the lady at the entrance has been slightly... let’s say *crumpled*. Some might even say "scrunched up and nearly tossed in the trash." First, six days ago, as the countdown echoed in us like a call to adventure, Cyclone Ditwah grabbed Sri Lanka, played with it like a rag doll, and left it battered on the ground. The toll is devastating: over a thousand dead, thousands of homes wiped out by relentless rains, roads and railways swallowed by massive mudslides. A country wounded once again, after the civil war, the 2004 tsunami, and the post-Covid economic crisis.

But as if this weather disaster wasn’t enough to shake our unbreakable adventurer spirit, fate decided to mess with us further by cutting our trio down to two. The victim? My brother, violently turned away because of a simple date on his passport that didn’t match the border officials’ expectations. Return to sender!

So now it’s just the two of us allowed to board the Qatar Airways Airbus A380 for this trip. If he were here, Denis Brognart would say, "And in the end, only one remains!" Except I know you’ll be with us, following our adventures! Right?

Hello everyone,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 0 - 11/07: Destination Lima

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hello,

After several years, I’ve finally decided to repost a travel journal on the forum. We returned a few weeks ago from an incredible trip to Kenya, and it’s reignited my desire to share our emotions in the face of these animals.

Kenya wasn’t originally a priority for us in terms of safari—we had the impression it was too touristy. So, we started with other destinations: Namibia, Tanzania, Botswana, and South Africa. But as I did more research, especially on the forum (thanks in part to Sylvie’s many trips), I eventually convinced myself that Kenya could be magnificent, as long as we chose our itinerary carefully and avoided peak seasons.

We ended up going in January, from the 17th to the 31st. We worked with a travel agency (TP) that crafted a custom itinerary for us: Samburu-Ol Pejeta-Naivasha-Maji Moto-Maasai Mara-Diani. They partnered with a local French-speaking agency, and everything was perfectly organized. Our trip exceeded all our expectations, and none of it would’ve been as amazing without our guide, Alfred. He accompanied us for 10 days and was a fantastic travel companion—professional, respectful of the animals, and always in good spirits. We formed a great bond with him in such a short time.

- **January 17th** After meeting up with Juliette and Charlotte in Rennes the night before, we left at 4 AM for Roissy Charles de Gaulle Airport. The thick fog made the drive pretty rough, but we arrived safely around 7:45 AM. A Blue Valet driver was waiting to take our car. Check-in went smoothly, and we waited patiently for our 10:40 AM flight. Unfortunately, despite boarding on time, a passenger was missing, and we had to find a replacement last minute. Then, another passenger who had checked in and dropped off their luggage wasn’t on the plane, so they had to unload their bags. After a long period of uncertainty and spotty communication from the crew, we finally took off over an hour late.

We arrived in Nairobi in the late afternoon, 45 minutes behind schedule. The administrative formalities were endless—it took nearly 1.5 hours from landing to leaving the airport with our luggage. When we stepped out, Alfred, our guide, was waiting with a big smile and drove us to the Eka Hotel, not far from the airport. Exhausted from the long journey, we fell asleep quickly.

- **January 18th** Alfred met us at 7 AM for a long drive to Samburu Reserve. We had a peaceful night, unlike the girls, who barely slept because their neighbors were talking loudly all night. Things even escalated when Charlotte started shouting insults to get them to quiet down, but it didn’t work.

It was Sunday, so traffic around Nairobi and along the route was light. Aside from a quick "technical stop," we drove straight through and arrived in Samburu after just under 6 hours. Because of the lower altitude (around 1,000m on average), it was hot—over 30°C in mid-January.

As soon as we entered the reserve, we spotted some impalas and quickly came across one of the region’s endemic species: the reticulated giraffe, which is absolutely stunning.



While heading to our camp for lunch, Alfred crossed paths with another vehicle and learned that a leopard was nearby. We started searching, and a few minutes later, Anny spotted a shape in a tree—it was our leopard!





There were actually two of them—a mother and her adolescent. The young one was perched high in the tree, in the shade. We got to observe them for a good half-hour in excellent conditions, with just one other vehicle nearby.





Alfred also noticed that the mother had hidden prey (a gerenuk gazelle) in the vegetation, away from prying eyes.

It was time to head to our camp, the Ashnil Samburu Camp, located in the Buffalo Springs area, by the river, in an idyllic setting surrounded by the region’s typical vegetation.





The welcome was fantastic—we immediately felt at home, and that feeling lasted throughout our 3-day stay in the reserve. It was 2 PM, but no one rushed us to the table. Our waitress, Sheila, who took care of us the whole time, was as lovely as the rest of the team. Barely seated, we were invited to watch an elephant passing right by the camp, in front of the restaurant. This trip was off to a great start!

After lunch, we relaxed by the pool. Monkeys, especially vervets, were everywhere, and a camp employee was assigned to keep an eye on them and shoo them away if needed (especially the baboons).

A little before 4 PM, we met up with Alfred for our first game drive. Just outside the camp, a few elephants were in the valley near the river.





We’d see them in the same area almost every day. We also spotted some gazelles.

Introduction: For years, I’ve heard about Costa Rica, which seems like a country "made for me"—nature, not cities. I almost went in 2019, but a family issue made me cancel. Initially, I wanted to spend at least three weeks there, planning to go in our summer despite it being the rainy season. Then I realized what I wanted to do could fit into two weeks, so I ended up going in February. Plus, January’s weather was so awful that some sunshine should do me good. I found a flight at a decent price, but with two downsides. The first is that it leaves from Paris CDG, and the second is that it’s with Air France—a airline I’d sworn off after my misadventures with them back in 2008. We’ll see how it goes!

Hi everyone,

It was totally by chance that I found this cruise while chatting with Alfred in November 2024. It wasn’t planned, but the price was attractive—one of those "great deals" from Ponant that I love and that don’t exist anymore. Since everyone’s wondering, here’s the answer without waiting for the end of the story: after my various loyalty discounts, I paid **3,250 € per person** for 8 nights/9 days on the expedition cruise *The Essentials of the Seychelles*.

Expedition cruises are by far our favorites. The outings are done by Zodiac with the ship’s naturalist guides, everything’s included, and there’s no need to add any excursions or prepare anything.

We’re liking long flights less and less, so to break up the trip, we decided to stop over in Doha for four days on the way there and one day on the way back.

I’m happy to share the good and not-so-good moments, the great surprises, and the disappointments of this trip with you.

Northern Laos, Nov 25

Thursday, Oct 23. Left home at 8:25 AM, took the bus from St Cyp to Perpignan, then a BlaBlaBus to Barcelona airport. Last night, a huge storm crossed France, and the bus was an hour late. We finally left at 11 AM. At the Spanish border, we were checked—several Africans were traveling on the bus, and their document verification took quite a while. In the end, everything was in order, and we set off again a good half-hour later. We finally arrived at Barcelona airport after 2 PM, but no stress since my flight was scheduled for 4:30 PM with Saudia. At check-in, the hostess told me there’d be a 1-hour delay due to bad weather in France and Belgium. In the end, the flight didn’t just have a 1-hour delay but a 5-hour one because of a technical issue. The next flight wouldn’t wait for us. When we arrived in Jeddah, they gave us another ticket for the following day—the flight to Bangkok was scheduled for 11:55 AM. The airline assigned us a room, which was good news since I was exhausted. Friday morning, the flight was still scheduled for 11:55 AM, but the gate wasn’t displayed. It was announced with a 1-hour delay, but that stretched to 4 hours. They handed out drinks and a snack—again, the delay was due to technical problems. In Bangkok, I had a connecting flight to Chiang Rai, where I’d also booked a room—I lost everything. We finally arrived in Bangkok on Saturday at 4 AM. I had to buy another ticket for a 7 AM flight. The formalities were quick, and my flight went smoothly. A taxi took me to Bus Terminal 1, where I caught a bus leaving at 10 AM, and we arrived at the Thailand-Laos border. I shared a taxi with other travelers, which took us to Houay Xai. The guesthouse I’d booked was right across from the stop—that was great. I exchanged some money and bought a SIM card at the guesthouse. Despite the fatigue, I needed to stretch my legs, so I walked down the street to the temple.









and continued to Fort Carnot, built by the French.



The views of the Mekong are beautiful for a first glimpse of the country.





yum-yum, bon appétit!

At 6:30 PM, I went to dinner at a restaurant across from the guesthouse—a chicken curry with vegetables.



I didn’t linger and went back to bed. I slept well, even if I woke up often.

There exists a rare land where life expresses itself, a land where everything is destroyed, patched up, where everything is dirty and faded, yet paradoxically, each passing day is synonymous with light and joy. Seen from the sea, magnified by its translucent waters, the island is splendid; seen from inland, ochre and green dress a landscape one would wish to be pristine. As you approach the coast with the tides, countless boat wrecks never finish dying; returning from a hike, you know you’re nearing the city by the increasingly obvious proliferation of all kinds of trash. Overflowing the towns, makeshift homes made of corrugated iron stand here and there, wherever the eye lands; from a height, looking toward the horizon, you find the calm blue of the ocean and the beauty of infinity.

But where does all this corrugated iron come from? Blue, gray, red, or black, you find it pretty much everywhere—except, of course, on the island’s heights, where the heat is such that all life seems impossible. Yet, a few kilometers from the capital, more than an hour’s walk away, the corrugated iron is very much there, omnipresent, guaranteeing a land registry as hypothetical for us Europeans as it is very real for those who live there, far from civilization and comfort. I keep climbing. I’m precisely looking to meet these people who live on very little, if not nothing.

- Jéjé Mogné (Hello, sir in Shimahorais)! Where do you get water here, in this place? How do you drink, irrigate your plants?

- I wait for the rain. We have tanks that fill up well with each rainfall. But right now, it’s not raining much.

At the top of the next hill, lost in the bushes, it’s easier for me to guess the distant city, Mamoudzou, than the rest of the path, a remnant of a magnificent GR called the Island Tour, abandoned for the most part, sometimes maintained between two lost hamlets. The city, the pulse, water. Below, the ocean, running water, drinking water—despite regular interruptions; here, up high, an hour and a half’s walk away, tanks, arbitrariness. On other slopes, however, during another hike, I saw the water supply network, made of sturdy pipes tangled in the earth, right there by the path. It seems there are places where water climbs. Others not. Each to their own karma. In 2025. In a French department.

A path of misfortune, lost and regained, thanks to a sign, an inscription, or the compass’s directions. No one walks here anymore, except those who live here or come to harvest their crops. I remember that breathtaking hike in 2013, when I connected Bandrélé to Mamoudzou, passing by the peaks of Bénara (660m) and Bépilipili (643m), barely pausing at Tsararano and Vahibé: 34 km of intense effort on a rollercoaster path, along a trail that was still discernible. Today, it’s as if everything had disappeared. By also destroying the paths and vegetation, Chido* broke the last momentum of these cautious hikers: insecurity has made its way across the archipelago, and Sunday strolls are no longer the norm. Me, I keep going. I will have walked here and there during these three weeks to get an idea of the places, the people, the landscapes, and the superhuman effort required to move forward in over 40°C. To tell the truth, during my last hike, I cut my plans short and let myself be carried by a group of young people heading back to the city. The path is now just an inextricable network of small trails, the specter of Providence** comes to mind. True wisdom is knowing when to give up. I leave.

* A cyclone named "desire" (in Shona), which ravaged the island of Mayotte on December 14, 2024. ** June 2023, a very poorly prepared hike on Providence Island (Caribbean) from which I miraculously escaped.

On Petite-Terre, Marie takes me to visit some locals, white people who have lived there for a long time and make a living from their art; jewelry for her, all kinds of objects for him. We love this little shop, this oasis amid the chaos that embodies Dostoevsky’s phrase: "Beauty will save the world." It’s clean and tidy, beautiful, well-kept. Invariably, the question of insecurity resurfaces in the middle of the conversation. The woman says:

- I know someone who slipped in their bathtub. Still, I keep taking baths…

So, is this insecurity a myth or reality? I hear stories that are often true but sometimes seemingly exaggerated through the lens of misunderstanding and one-upmanship. Like that of this midwife assaulted one evening (it gets dark early) on her way home from work. Sometimes she was attacked on the path, dragged by the hair for several meters, sometimes she made it home, but it was her roommate who let the two men in. One version talks about a snatched phone and gratuitous violence, another about violence outright. In short, one thing is certain: walking around at night flaunting your phone isn’t a good idea, no more in Mamoudzou than in the rough neighborhoods of Nantes. Also, I played it safe: nothing flashy, nothing bling-bling, and always something to give if needed. I was never approached. It’s not easy to get a sense of the realities, between the hazy reports from journalists sensationalizing everything and the real lives of real people. But I know I can’t rely on these few ideas I’ve formed: I’m nobody, and above all, I don’t live here. What I do know, however, is that since my last visit to the island in 2017, over 80,000 babies have been born, and tens of thousands of immigrants have reached the archipelago’s shores. What’s also obvious is that poverty, hunger, and—let’s say it—indignity foster delinquency and insecurity. So, without taking journalists’ alarmist speeches at face value, we’ll try to keep in mind that a young person rendered orphaned by circumstances (parents expelled), poor and often hungry, involved more or less against their will in village wars and fueled by synthetic drugs*, will readily turn to violence when they truly have nothing to lose. We can trace the origin of this despair to the fact that in Mayotte, those without legal existence have virtually no hope of accessing anything.

* "Chimique" is a series of synthetic cannabinoids

Meanwhile, in the evening, it’s good to go home before the time of stone-throwing. From time to time, along the roads, gangs throw stones at vehicles and school buses, but mostly at police cars—almost all the white Dusters on the island! In front of the Mamoudzou police station, all parked vehicles—mostly Dusters—bear the scars of these attacks. Maybe it’s only at night that gangs unleash and all the burglaries happen? I saw nothing, heard nothing. I lived three weeks in a sort of bunker with no real access to outside light, protected by a fake wooden door doubled with a real metal door, both locked at all times. You don’t tempt fate. You endure it differently.

Today, extraordinarily, it’s raining. Yet, it’s the rainy season! But with my karma helping (what selfishness to want to walk dry when so many souls live off the rain) or is it climate change? The rain only falls once I’ve put on my horrible green pajamas. In front of the board outlining the program, I’m told that out of the six scheduled C-sections today (sic), they’ll probably only do two, maybe three. Because it’s raining. And when it rains, people don’t move around. Not for lack of will. Rather, for lack of means. And that ties into those sad days when the police patrol around the hospital: patients don’t come. They’ll come back tomorrow. To compensate, I’m happy at the thought of tackling the abscess program, but the sterilization unit is acting up and blocking the instrument trays. When it’s not the rain, it’s the unions. And when both finally quiet down, there’s always someone to find fault with the order of operations. You have to imagine an operating room where the question of urgency reigns supreme. Here, no surgery is scheduled more than 24 hours in advance—only emergencies, nothing but emergencies. So, following that reasonable adage that what’s done is no longer to be done, it’s sheer madness when the rain meets the interests of Force Ouvrière and the bad will of some combines with the laziness of others. To tell the truth, I’ve never seen so much energy expended to… do nothing. Hallucinating. But who am I, a small-time striver, an islander in my spare time, a temporary worker at the end of the world? I came, I saw, I was disappointed? Not really. Here again, I can’t judge a system in so little time. I can barely utter a few bitter words in front of obvious facts. But nothing will take away my joy of being here for three weeks. Here, they heal with somewhat outdated but still functional means. You do what you can with what you have, 8,000 km from the Métropole. Yes, the operating room doors hesitate, and the operating tables stutter, but in this blessed period, we lack neither medicines nor supplies. So we examine, anesthetize, and repair, far more undocumented people than French—if I may play with somewhat borderline statistics here; we deliver babies, dress wounds, and relieve pain in this hospital at the end of the world where neither white women nor Mahorais women would ever consider giving birth or getting treated.

What’s the solution? The obstetrician talks to the woman during a C-section under spinal anesthesia:

- Bouéni! (Madame, in Shimahorais) You need to think about tubal ligation. This is your fourth C-section. Your uterus is like tissue paper. Your next pregnancy will be very risky.

No answer. Culture. It’s all about culture. The funniest thing is that France also gets bogged down with the idea of other cultures’… cultures. The woman in question arrived illegally a few years ago to give birth to her first child. Since then, rejecting the very idea of contraception—her husband, for his part, will invoke God or Allah to refuse a vasectomy—she comes back every 12-14 months. And the obstetrician explains to me how his idea of making information about permanent contraception mandatory was deemed racist by associations. It’s always the same story. I suggest to the associations that they take charge of all these extra births, not only the medical costs but also the entire education, not just financial, of all these children doomed to live a life of misery on this forsaken archipelago. The probability that one of these offspring will emerge as a gifted, sensitive, and fiercely happy individual must truly be weighed against the degradation and abandonment that will invariably afflict the thousands of others living around him. In reality, simply mentioning a very real danger to the mother should be enough to impose sterilization. But we are a country whose greatness of soul is measured by the number of heads cut off to uphold the famous rights of man... Already a proponent at home of ending family allowances after the third child—you can’t subscribe to a certain idea of society and, at the same time, accept that tens of thousands of children are sacrificed on the altar of thoughtlessness and financial interest*—I will weakly advocate here for a controlled right to have children. Well, what will they say about me when I express the idea of imposing sterilization on women in irregular situations after the birth of their third child? National solidarity funds the noblest ideals? In Mayotte? Let’s be serious. It’s so much easier to hide behind the inalienable right of women to control their bodies than to acknowledge one’s own powerlessness to assume the consequences of such a policy. Because after 18 years of struggles as a second-class citizen, the young stateless person will have no choice but to live in hiding: faced with the impossibility of claiming birthright citizenship**, they will be deportable. In Mayotte, there aren’t enough schools, not enough housing, not enough projects for youth, not enough jobs, not enough money, not enough future… In Mayotte, an average of 5 children are born per woman. In reality, we never ask about the right of children to control their own lives.

* Single parent with 4 children: RSA at 1937 € + family allowances… ** Law of May 12, 2025 aiming to strengthen the conditions for accessing French nationality in Mayotte.

I live in the city in a clean apartment where air conditioning eases my aches and sweat, and where water flows abundantly, thanks to huge tanks that fill up between water cuts. On the hills of Koungou, I was struck by this image: there, women (a matriarchal society?) do the dishes in a miserable stream. Upstream of the same stream, the same image as downstream: disgusting water with bits of foam floating on it. A little further, however, there are taps with running water that children play with. Strange. In any case, water is a question. They tell me it’s drinkable; I doubt it. A system that’s regularly cut doesn’t seem reliable to me. In any case, I can’t help but think of the Canary Islands and their chronic water shortage, especially in Lanzarote. Without entering the debate on desalination plants—I’m quite ignorant about environmental repercussions—I’ll just say that in the Canary Islands, you can buy 8 L jugs of purified water for less than 2 €. Here, in Mayotte, the price of water—as is the price of gasoline—is the same everywhere: 0.65 € for a bottle of Cristaline (1 €/L)*. While I was walking up there with a couple of farmers shuttling between two remote spots, I know I hit the mark by offering them one of my two bottles I’d brought for the occasion.

* At home, we find Cristaline at 1.14 € for a 9 L pack, i.e., 0.13 € per liter.

Outside, everything is broken, abandoned, old, worn, torn, faded, heavy, dirty, forsaken. But life goes on. And that’s fascinating. At home, at 5:45 PM, people close their shutters and watch cable TV, sometimes late into the night, emptying the streets of any salutary clamor, unwittingly extinguishing the necessary pulse of life. At home, we die of boredom. In Mamoudzou, between two dying trash cans, metal frames laid on the ground are covered by the elements of a broken garden set. A bare concrete staircase, without railings, provides access to the upper floor of a dwelling. On the steps, you can read: Private space - Please take your trash with you. Metal rods protrude from the said dwelling. On the ground, it’s a festival of screws and nails… A cat passes by. It doesn’t look great. A madwoman crosses the street dancing. A slightly hurried driver brakes. A six- or seven-year-old boy comes out in his underwear from his low house made of corrugated iron. He smiles. He’s having fun doing acrobatic figures over an old mattress on the sidewalk. Forward roll, backward roll. You wonder if he eats enough. Different culture. Different customs.

I will remember for a long time this blinding morning light, a raw, vital, striking light. I almost forgot where I came from, the grayness and boredom of that continental European country where nothing really happens anymore. Here, I could join Camus, contemplating these people placed halfway between misery and the sun, resigned for the most part and, for the other part, not too unhappy with their lot. But the Mahorais discourse is unanimous: "France really screwed us over!" Today, more than half of the island’s inhabitants are undocumented; a tremendous amount of energy is spent expelling 20,000 to 25,000 of them each year; colossal sums are swallowed up to care for all these people, and the island is drifting. I talk with some gendarmes. One of them tells me:

- They intercept one kwassa* out of three… Can you explain to me why they can’t catch everyone? It’s 2025! Can’t they put the necessary boats in place?

Clearly, and this is also my opinion, this whole mess serves interests beyond us. For who can believe for a second that this glaring incompetence isn’t orchestrated? Shared interests between secret France and the Union of the Comoros? A desire to bring insecurity to its peak, either by the Comoros to eventually take back control of Mayotte, or by our own government, in a deliberate effort to see all the white people leave the archipelago and let the Mahorais fend for themselves? At one point, I’m even told about an extraordinary deposit beneath Mayotte’s soil, a promise of infinite wealth**. Not to infringe on human rights, to do some cleaning from time to time, to calm things down to avoid implosion, while waiting to go after this providential bounty? Decidedly, Mayotte hasn’t said its last word!

*What’s paradoxical is that in the early 2010s, to revive traditional fishing activity, the UN financed in Anjouan the construction of a factory to produce these light boats, 7-10m long and 1m wide, which largely served the interests of smugglers. This skiff owes its name to a Congolese dance known for being as rhythmic as it is jerky, much like the navigation experience offered during a crossing to Mayotte. ** A 2025 study revealed the existence of a gigantic magmatic reservoir located 23km beneath the archipelago. If the Icelandic experiment succeeds (Project KMT, see here), Mayotte will then possess almost unlimited energy.

Hell on earth. Paradise at sea. The world’s largest lagoon offering spectacular marine depths, Mayotte’s coral reef suffers less from the abundance of tourists* than from tropical storms**. So, let’s admit that Mayotte is best appreciated when approached from the lagoon. The heights are for old hands like me. The sea spray is rather for the snobs who shun the sun god Ra, risking too much exposure and ending up on sick leave for sunstroke! But I’m not exclusive: I twice don my snob attire and head out to tackle the waves, the seabeds, and the elusive. Because yes, underwater, we leave our landlubber reflexes behind, and flying over corals and other magnificent drop-offs, it’s as if we’re soaring, keeping in memory only what our eyes can store. Multicolored, even phosphorescent fish, sharks, rays, the immensity of the blue, and then, there, dolphins, just a few meters from me, underwater. Incredible.

* 70,000 tourists annually, mostly affinity tourism (links with family or an expatriate). ** Present almost at the water’s surface, the reefs were largely destroyed by Chido.

Paradise at sea? When you think that Mayotte comes from the Arabic Jazirat al Mawet—literally, Island of Death—because of its double coral barrier where many skiffs have run aground and continue to do so… Paradise. Eldorado. The Comoros now face an unprecedented influx of immigrants from the African Great Lakes. And Mayotte, for its part, continues to attract relentlessly, thanks to the evolution of the law*. In reality, whether hidden interests exist or not, France remains bound hand and foot by international, European, and French rules: it can’t do much. Barely has it boarded a kwassa when the one who flees by swimming cries attempted murder; barely has one been sent back to the Comoros when an association will look into their detention conditions and find a loophole; barely has one told a bouéni how her next pregnancy could be fatal when so-called human voices cry scandal.

* Regarding the Métropole, the rights of squatters and other bad payers against the notion of private property, legally violated in favor of the right to housing… ** You can read about France being condemned for its illegal practices of expelling Comorian minors. Inhumane treatment, arbitrary detention, collective expulsion.

Everyone forms their own idea of justice, and no one can claim a monopoly on good thinking. So, as long as I treat without prejudice, as long as my hands are sincerely guided by the love I bear for our humanity, I’ll allow myself to think what I think, understanding that I’m rather open to dialogue and that my opinions evolve with time and events. Today, Mayotte represents for me the failure of a model, a European one in this case, where opulence quickly meets its limits. For it’s not wrong to think that our society can’t share more than it produces, nor is it wrong to think that every human being has a right to their share of the pie; in Mayotte, you’ll find the proven result of our civilization: it doesn’t work. Exclusively financed by the right, the ideas of the left jam in Mayotte more than anywhere else: national solidarity coupled with a sense of guilt creates chaos. Political courage, or true social justice, would be to offer a future to those who have no choice—the one who’s already here, the child to be born—not to offer a present to those who can choose or to whom one can give keys to understanding—the woman of childbearing age, the candidate for exile. Ultimately, the Comoros’ coup d’état over France comes at the cost of many innocent victims, starting with the children*.

* Tens of thousands of deaths by drowning between Anjouan and Mayotte, tens of thousands of children left to fend for themselves and doomed to a non-existent future.

On the evening of the 31st, I go for my usual run and notice near a roundabout a fool in rags pedaling the wrong way. A police car passes by: the guy gets stopped. A rather quick identity check. The guy is taken away. Would he still be among us if he had ridden the right way? In the evening, the line is long in front of the club near the dock. Me, I’m just passing by, greeting my friends of the season, much more inclined to savor rest than to exhaust myself on an overheated dance floor. There, a man, thirty or forty years old, clearly in a world of his own, is searching the trash for something to eat. He’s barefoot. I console myself by thinking that at least he won’t die of cold. Out of ten children born in Mayotte, I can reasonably think that only one will be able to afford an existence that minimally meets any of our criteria.

It’s time to go home. After sweating and thinking so much about this gem of the Mozambique Channel, I spend peaceful hours by the pool at a hotel next to the airport. We checked out at 8 AM, and the flight is at 7 PM. The perfect opportunity to slack off and chat a bit more. I’m happy to get to know one of the co-pilots of tonight’s flight, staying at this hotel, while one of my flight attendant friends from this airline had already recommended me to the crew. But it’s not the captain’s day, who’s in a rather gloomy mood. I’ll travel in the back, up to the vertical of Cairo. Midnight has just struck; it’s January 2nd, my name day. Concerned about solving an unsolvable problem with a passenger, the crew asks me to give up my exit row seat and takes me to the front for the last four hours of the flight. In the end, the captain gave in? I laugh to myself: if there’s one thing I mustn’t forget, it’s that God never abandons me!

We arrive in the evening in Marrakesh, and a taxi arranged by our friendly Riad is waiting for us. The driver takes us to the door, where we’re briefly greeted by our hosts. The room is heated—phew—because it’s really cold on this January 17th for our arrival. Riad Alisma, where we’re staying for 2 nights. The next morning, it’s pouring rain when we wake up, but after a good breakfast, the rain has calmed down. Off we go to the medersa, which allows for a relatively sheltered visit. We’d visited this palace 15 years ago—it’s been renovated since then.





From there, without the rain, we wander aimlessly and eventually end up near the tanneries, but it’s Sunday, and there’s very little activity. Of course, we get hassled by a tout.



Here, the hides after being treated with lime—I love the colors.

We part ways a bit annoyed. He gets a little revenge by giving us bad directions, and we end up outside the city walls. We decide to take a taxi to the new modern art museum—60 dirhams for the 5 km, which is nothing when you think about it. That tout, who we didn’t ask for anything and made it clear we weren’t buying anything, dragged us into a shop supposedly only open that day and demanded 50 dirhams for his "services"! Let’s forget that bad moment and enjoy the exhibition at the MACAL.



The taxi on the way back drops us off at Place des Ferblantiers, not far from our Riad. We’re a little peckish—it’s worth mentioning that at lunchtime, we only ate a plate of beans from a street vendor. So, we buy a bunch of little sweets, each more delicious than the last, at Ajar. We snack while sipping mint tea and watching life go by around us. A final visit to the Museum of Moroccan Cuisine on our way back helps us dodge a few more showers. Then it’s back to the Riad. The atmosphere in the city is heating up—it’s the AFCON final tonight. The temperatures, though? Not so much. We ordered a meal at the Riad, and it was a good call—not only was it really tasty, but the rain also picked up again. Our day in Marrakesh ends under the covers with a good book and some photo sorting. Still, we managed 10,750 steps. View of our Riad



Tomorrow, we’ll pick up our rental car from Medloc and head to Essaouira.

Hi everyone,

It's official—I've got our flight tickets for next October! Two weeks with my 16-year-old son, aiming to see plenty of big animals and birds.

Thanks to all of you for the wealth of information on this site.

After going through a good chunk of the forum and travel journals about South Africa, I think my itinerary is ready...

I’ve planned 2 days with long drives to minimize time spent outside the parks. These are Sunday the 18th: Johannesburg Airport to Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Reserve, and Friday the 23rd: St. Lucia to Nelspruit (staying in South Africa) or as close as possible to visit the Canyon the next day.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the itinerary, especially these 2 days—are they doable or not? Should I book in advance, or will there be places to sleep along the way if we don’t make it to our planned destination? What’s the crowd level in South Africa in October?

As for Kruger, I’ve chosen campsites with camping facilities, prioritizing the "satellite" camps, at least in the northern part!! I’ve planned to change camps almost every day to combine travel and wildlife spotting, but is this the right choice?

The itinerary:

Sunday 18th Arrival at 8:50 AM in Johannesburg Drive to Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Reserve 530 km, 7h20 1 night (18th–19th) at the northern gate

Monday 19th Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Reserve 1h30, 50 km 2nd night (19th–20th) southeast of the reserve

Tuesday 20th Hluhluwe-Umfolozi Reserve 3rd night (20th–21st) southeast of the reserve or Mpila

Wednesday 21st Reserve and drive to St. Lucia Drive to St. Lucia: 1h, 50 km Crocodile and hippo boat tour at 3 PM 4th night (21st–22nd) in St. Lucia Sugarloaf Campsites

Thursday 22nd Whale-watching tour 7–9 AM (or the next day) Cap Vidal, day trip: 70 km round trip 5th night (22nd–23rd) in St. Lucia Sugarloaf Campsites

Friday 23rd Drive to Nelspruit 541 km, 7h Night in Nelspruit 6th night (23rd–24th) in Graskop

Saturday 24th Blyde River Canyon 150 km, 2h + stops 7th night (24th–25th) at Blyde Canyon Forever Resort

Sunday 25th (Kruger Day 1) Leopard Trail hike: 3h Drive to Kruger, Phalaborwa Gate 136 km, 2h to the park entrance 75 km, 3h to Mopani - Tzende 8th night (25th–26th) Kruger 1: Tsendze

Monday 26th (Kruger Day 2) Drive to Balule: 84 km, 3h20 9th night (26th–27th) Kruger 2: Balule

Tuesday 27th (Kruger Day 3) Drive to Satara: 160 km, 6h25 10th night (27th–28th) Kruger 3: Satara

Wednesday 28th (Kruger Day 4) Kruger 11th night (28th–29th) Kruger 4: Satara

Thursday 29th (Kruger Day 5) Kruger 12th night (29th–30th) Kruger 5: Skukuza

Friday 30th (Kruger Day 6) Kruger 13th night (30th–31st) Kruger 6: Lower Sabi

Saturday 31st (Kruger Day 7) Kruger 14th night (31st–1st) Kruger 7: Berg-en-Dal

Sunday 31st Departure: flight at 9:15 PM (must be at the airport by 6 PM max) Morning in Kruger, then drive 400 km, 5h30—departure by 11 AM max

Thanks in advance for your feedback! Claude

Good evening everyone! 🙂

We’re back from our September 2025 road trip, this time to explore Arizona and New Mexico, and it’s time for me to start my travel journal—especially since everything’s already booked for another trip in September 2026 (to California), and I need to get started on the planning.

I was a little worried this new visit to Uncle Sam’s country might not be as "wow" as the others, but we still discovered some incredible places.

For those who don’t know us, we’re a couple in our seventies who speak very little English, but that didn’t stop us from fully enjoying our stay.

For this 6th road trip in the U.S., we spent 21 nights there, drove 4,160 km by car, and walked nearly 160 km in a loop starting from Phoenix.

We’d been to Arizona before (but not this side) and never to New Mexico. This whole road trip was a huge discovery for us.

In the prices mentioned (some in euros, others in dollars), bank fees and exchange charges are included. The flights, car rental, and parking were all paid for in December 2024 when we booked.

We’d downloaded the MPC (Mobile Passport Control) app, but there wasn’t a dedicated line at Phoenix Airport. Still, we got through quickly with friendly, smiling agents.

I don’t drive at all (I hate it), so the stops were chosen based on activities but also, for some, to limit daily mileage for the sole driver. The kilometers listed in the itinerary are the daily distances.

We traveled from September 9th to 22nd, unfortunately once again without our dear friends Mimi and Maumau.

The itinerary



Day 1: Flight Marseille-Paris-Phoenix, then Gold Canyon (133 km) Day 2: Tucson (271 km) Lost Dutchman State Park Day 3: Tucson (155 km) Day 4: Tucson (34 km) Day 5: Bisbee (182 km) Day 6: Lordsburg (345 km) Day 7: Las Cruces (253 km) Day 8: Alamogordo (162 km) Day 9: Roswell (264 km) Day 10: Tucumcari (369 km) Day 11: Las Vegas (281 km) – the one in New Mexico Day 12: Taos (213 km) Day 13: Santa Fe (224 km) Day 14: Albuquerque (123 km) Day 15: Gallup (246 km) Day 16: Holbrook (224 km) Day 17: Flagstaff (179 km) Day 18: Sedona (118 km) Day 19: Sedona (48 km) Day 20: Sedona (41 km) Day 21: Phoenix (256 km) Day 22: Phoenix Airport (35 km)

📊 **Budget**: A little over 7,500 € for both of us, all included. The exchange rate was in our favor (1.17 dollars to 1 €). 📊 **Flights**: Marseille-Paris Charles de Gaulle-Phoenix: 1,787 € for two, with one checked bag each (Air France) 📊 **ESTA**: $42 📊 **America the Beautiful Pass**: $80 📊 **Parking**: 134 € (super eco at Marseille) 📊 **Car rental (Hertz)**: 865 €. Since there were no SUVs left in the reserved category (Nissan Rogue), we got an upgrade (4x4 Ford Explorer). We booked through Air France (15% discount). We’d originally reserved it in December for 1,140 €, but since prices dropped in March, we canceled and rebooked for 865 €. Hertz offers a free Hertz Gold Plus Rewards program, which gives you priority counter service when picking up the car. 📊 **Accommodation**: 2,400 € We stayed in hotels and motels of varying standards (from 60 to 203 € per night, depending on the city), all booked through Booking.com or Hotels.com. Out of 21 nights, only two didn’t include breakfast in the price. Booking.com sometimes offers slightly cheaper rates if you book by phone using the mobile app, and our Genius 3 status on the site also got us some preferential rates. 📊 **Supplementary insurance**: AVA 200 € for medical care if needed 📊 **Cash**: $2,078. We left with 1,000 € exchanged before departure and made two withdrawals of $500. This cash covered: - Evening restaurants and tips - Midday picnics - Gas: $298 for 4,160 km - Museum and private park entries (per person): - Lost Dutchman: $10 - Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum: $28 - Bird Cage Theater: $16 - Tombstone Shootout: $8 - New Mexico Farm & Ranch Museum: $12 - Roswell International UFO Museum: $5 - Billy the Kid Museum: $7 - Rancho de Taos: $22 - West Fork Oak Creek Trail entry: $15 We got a few discounts thanks to our senior age (+65). - Souvenirs and little treats

Like on our previous road trips, we didn’t rent a GPS. We got around using offline GPS apps Here WeGo and Organic Maps, with maps of the states we visited downloaded before we left (on our phones).

❤️❤️❤️ **Highlights** (there are so many!) 📍 Goldfield Ghost Town (even if it’s a reconstruction) 📍 The standing army of Saguaro cacti at Saguaro National Park West 📍 Diving into the cowboy universe of Tombstone 📍 The welcome from Rick and Henry at our guesthouse in Bisbee (Garden at Mile High Ranch) 📍 The tangled rocks of Chiricahua National Monument 📍 The flavored pistachios from Dwayne’s Fresh Jerky and Mac Ginnis Pistachioland 📍 Restaurants: La Posta (Las Cruces), Diner 66 (Albuquerque), and the Haunted Hamburger (Jerome) 📍 The old plazas of New Mexico 📍 The solitude and beauty of the white dunes at White Sands National Park 📍 Stepping back in time at the Billy the Kid Museum (Fort Stanton) 📍 Sections of historic Route 66 and the old motels of Tucumcari, especially at night when all the neon lights are on 📍 Taos Pueblo and diving into Native American culture 📍 After the Rio Grande Bridge, the descent via NM 567 to the very bottom of the Rio Grande Gorge, then the road along the riverbanks to Taos 📍 The tranquility of the Chimayo Sanctuary 📍 Discovering the ingenious native dwellings at Bandelier National Monument and Walnut Canyon National Park 📍 The small towns along the Turquoise Trail 📍 The red rocks of Red Rock Park and the Painted Desert 📍 The extraordinary colors of the petrified trees at Petrified Forest National Park 📍 Sedona, its red rocks, and the reward of the viewpoints at the end of hikes (Devil’s Bridge, The Subway, and West Fork Oak Creek) 📍 The immersion in Mexico when visiting Tlaquepaque 📍 The almost-ghost town of Jerome and its terraced streets 📍 The incredible kindness of Americans, always ready to help and up for a chat ❤️

☹️☹️☹️ **Flops** (there are very few) 📍 Several museums and churches being closed, so we couldn’t visit them 📍 Some museums and visitor centers opening late (10 AM) and closing early (4 PM) 📍 A 64 € phone roaming charge because we got near the Mexican border and picked up their cell tower 📍 The outrageous price ($5.99) for a gallon of gas at the Shell near Phoenix Airport

I hope this helps! Anyway, thanks for reading my long post. Don’t hesitate to reach out, even via PM, if you see I haven’t replied and you’d like more details. Have a great evening, everyone! 🙂

Hi there,

I’m looking for a beach spot within 3 hours max of Bangkok for the end of my trip (January). I know full well I won’t find that postcard-perfect vibe of the more remote islands! But I don’t have a choice. If you’ve got any ideas... no high-rises, obviously not Pattaya, somewhere quiet, swimming possible, a hotel right on the beach (and not too dirty, the beach itself!) I’ve looked at hotels around Ko Samet or, across from it, on the mainland. I spotted the Bann Pae Cabana. But nothing really exciting on either side. New ideas welcome! 🙂

Hello everyone,

If you'd like, I invite you to join me for a week-long cruise to northern Greece, visiting ports that are often less crowded with cruise ships.

Itinerary: Athens, Skiathos, Volos, Thessaloniki, Kavala, Limnos, Hydra, Athens

Hey there, VF crew!

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

Day 1 - October 19

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

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

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





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

Ah, Iceland and us—it’s quite the story, or rather, a long wait... The first time we considered going was already 7-8 years ago, after reading travel journals describing breathtaking landscapes, countless active and dormant volcanoes, glaciers, and waterfalls with extraordinary flows. In short, this island, made of fire and ice, right at Europe’s doorstep with its own unique culture, had nothing but advantages, and it was urgent to visit without delay 😇

My *Routard* guidebook is actually from 2016. So why did Iceland make us wait so long before we finally gave in to its charms? Yes, why indeed?

Simply because reading other travel journals revealed the cost of living there—and especially the harsh climate, even in the middle of July 🤪! Some journals described entire weeks of rain and foggy weather, making it tricky to explore the island. The budget wasn’t spared either, because in the most touristy areas, especially in the south and around Myvatn, accommodation prices are downright indecent—even outright robbery. 😕

Plus, in the Highlands, there’s literally no permanent lodging, and the only way to spend several nights there is to camp. And camping in winter conditions wasn’t exactly part of our plans... 😄

So, year after year, this trip kept getting postponed...

until August 2023, when prices for Southern Africa, North or South America, or even Asia were all way too high for summer 2024!

That’s when I turned my attention back to the Land of Fire and Ice and scoured all the comparison sites for the best accommodation deals across the country. Planning for 20 nights, I found 13 nights in "proper" lodging for 5 people at an average cost of under 200 €! A miracle, considering that in the southern glacier region, around Vik or Myvatn, prices range from 300 to 1000 € per night 😮 😮!

Still, that means we’ll have to camp for 7 nights, mostly in the Highlands, near Askja or Landmannalaugar. 😎

For once, I built the daily itinerary entirely around the decently priced lodgings I found 11 months in advance! The shortage of places to stay in some areas forced me to plan a few long transition days and make some tough choices. No big deal, though—there’s so much to do on this island 🙂!

Once the main itinerary was set, everyone agreed to the plan: 2/3 in proper lodging and 1/3 camping, even the most camping-averse among us! *Follow my gaze...*

By the time we bought the flight tickets, I had to tweak the itinerary a bit because one or two places were already booked! Plus, it was impossible to wait for a more refined plan to adjust reservations, since almost all bookings are non-refundable!! The harsh law of supply and demand...

For the car rental, we booked a Hyundai Tucson, approved for the Highlands, from Lava Car Rental—a company I’d read good reviews about in a Facebook group—for a cool 2500 € with full insurance. A real 4x4, like a Defender, would’ve been more than double...! Welcome to Iceland 😕...

Activities and excursions also required some tough choices. We had two must-dos: whale watching in Húsavík (60 € pp on Getyourguide) and a Glacier and Summer Treasure Glacier Walk with BlueIceland (165 € pp with discount codes on Getyourguide).

For the baths, we skipped the Blue Lagoon—too expensive—in favor of the Secret Lagoon and the Myvatn Baths, the Blue Lagoon’s equivalent but half the price.

Two baths for the price of one... and even more, since I spotted several free hot-water swimming spots.

Itinerary: Day 1: Arrival in Reykjavik - Hraunfossar Waterfall - Surtshellir Cave Day 2: Grábrók Crater - Snæfellsnes Peninsula Day 3: Stykkishólmur - Sturlungalaug Hot Springs Day 4: Northwest Coast - Akureyri - Goðafoss Day 5: Myvatn Day 6: Myvatn - Dettifoss - Selfoss - Rauðhólar Day 7: Húsavík Whale Watching - Dettifoss - Selfoss Day 8: Stuðlagil Canyon - Seyðisfjörður Day 9: Puffin colony - Störurð Hike Day 10: Hengifoss - East Fjords, Mjóifjörður Day 11: Viking Village - Jökulsárlón - Fjallsárlón Day 12: Glacier Excursion - Svartifoss Day 13: Fjaðrárgljúfur Canyon - Vík Day 14: Þakgil - Lava Show Vík Day 15: Southern Waterfalls Day Day 16: Landmannalaugar - Skalli Hike Day 17: Landmannalaugar - Bláhnjúkur - Brennisteinsalda Day 18: Secret Lagoon, Kerlingarfjöll, and Gullfoss Day 19: Geysir - Reykjavik Day 20: Bruarfoss - Þingvellir - Kerid Crater - Krýsuvík Geothermal Area Day 21: Reykjanes Peninsula

Friday, July 5, 2024, is our last workday before driving up to Alsace overnight to leave the cockers at Grandpa’s for boarding. Then, at 1:30 AM, we’ll head to Frankfurt, where a direct flight to Iceland awaits.

We arrive at 4 AM. Since we leave at 7 AM, the "night" will only last the equivalent of a 30-minute nap 🤪... just enough to get us in the road-trip mood 😏!!