Results for "Copan+|+46+>+94"

BONJOUR

EXISTE IL DES CHAMBRES A LOUER CHEZ L HABITANT A VARDERO ?

MERCI D AVANCE

PASCAL

pascalcouturier@free.fr

coucou

qqn pourrait il me donner les coordonnées "sérieuses" des compagnies ou du moins du service qui s'occupe des billet tdm de Star alliance et de Oneworld alliance.

Merci

salut tt le monde

Je pars en Rep. Dom pr la 1er fois via Lastminute du 5 au 13 mai, et j'ai plusieurs questions : qqun connait l'Hotel Azzuro à Cabarete ? quelle est la compagnie aérienne utilisée (apparement c via Marsans le voyage) comment est la plage de Cabarete ? mon copain fait du windsurf, d'ou le choix de cette plage, et j'ai peur que le vent soit assez violent... est-ce possible tt de meme de lézarger au soleil sans manger trop de sable ? 😕

Merci pour votre aide !!!

Bonjour,

J'aimerais profiter d'un voyage au Pérou pour approfondir la culture culinaire de ce pays. Auriez vous eu vent de la possibilité d'y prendre des cours de cuisine ? (Egalement pour le Bresil...)

Merci

A+

Salut tlm,

Je pars pour l'Europe au début Mars. En fait je me donne 6 mois pour visiter le plus de pays possible tout en tenant compte que je devrai travailler ici et là...Je pars avec mon copain nous avons pas encore la date du départ tout ce qu'on sait c'est que nous allons en france en tout premier c'est à dire à Paris ensuite nous ne savons pas!!!

Voila quelques pays que je voudrais visiter: France, Italie, Grece, Espagne, Portugal, Angleterre et si vous avez mieux a me suggerer je suis assez open!

Ce que je voudrais savoir c'est dans kel pays c'est possible pour des canadiens de travailler? Avec visa !!!

Combien coute la vie dans chacun de ses pays?

Kel est l'itinéraire le plus logique que nous pourrions prendre?

Kel est la distance en temps qui sépare ses pays?

Kel est la mentalité de la population par la? Ou je peux aller avec mon petit budget? Comme par exemple notre premiere et deuxième nuit à Paris nous devrions faire koi si nous ne voulons pas toute dépenser notre argent toute suite???

Merci pour vos infos si vous avez peu importe kel renseignements qui concernent l'Europe et des voyageurs sans budgets j'attends avec impatience de vos nouvelles !!

Au plaisir

mon e-mail bctrip2003@hotmail.com

Bonjour

Nous partons à Punta Cana fin février avec notre fille de 8 ans. Nous somme déjà allés plusieurs fois ensemble à Cuba et nous n'avons jamais eu de vaccins et nous n'avons jamais eu de problème.

Un copain part pour la même destination et toute sa famille s'est fait vaccinée pour le tétanos et l'hépatite. Je trouve cette précaution inutile....................est-ce que j'ai raison?

Merci !! 😎

C'est la petite Mistelle !

J'ai réussi à obtenir une semaine à mes frais de la part de mon patron pour partir en voyage. Youppi! ( fin mars )

Moi et mon copain, nous avons décidé de réserver à 50 $ de frais de booking, le complexe hôtelier 5 étoiles Gala beach resort playacar, à env. 45 min. de Cancun, playa del carmen pas loin de là.

J'ai lu des commentaires sur trip advisor, assez positifs ou carrément négatifs.

Cet endroit m'a été conseillé par un retraité d'air canada qui voyage beaucoup, il a dit qu'il était dans son top cinq de tous les hôtels ou il a séjourné dans sa vie.

Est-ce quelqu'un voudrait me conseiller sur cet endroit, qui me laisse un doute encore !

Justement...en parlant de forfaits et spéciaux de dernières minutes...

Mon fils aîné de 23 ans sera en vacances la dernière semaine de janvier...

Il planifie d'aller dans le sud avec un copain qui voyage très souvent comme ça....il s'en va à l'aéroport, donne son nom et attend les propositions de l'extrême ultime minute, il paraît qu'il y en a, mais ils ne savent pas presque jusqu'à la dernière seconde où ils vont..paraît que c'est un "thrill".

Quelqu'un a déjà fait ça???? N'y a t-il pas de mauvaises surprises, ainsi???

D.

Bonjour à tous Je viens de découvrir ce site que je trouve vraiment génial!

En février, je vais faire un voyage en Égypte (et Israël) avec mon copain. Un voyage de type "routard" (sauf une superbe croisière sur le Steam Ship Sudan, en passant, si quelqu'un à déjà fait une croisière sur ce bateau, j'aimerais bien avoir un commentaire🙂)

1- Avez vous une suggestion d'hôtel...ou d'auberge? (pas trop cher, environ 40 LE/nuit), pour le Caire (4 nuits), Assouan (3 nuits) et Louxor (1 nuit)

2- Dans tous ces endroits, quel son & lumière est le + beau?

3- Nous prévoyons aller au Marché aux dromadaires de Birqach, est ce que ça en vaut le déplacement?

4- Si j'ai une nuit à passer au Sinaï...Dahab ou Noueiba?

5- Comment est la température en Février en Égypte? et est-ce que c'est la haute ou la basse saison?

J'ai 2 guides de voyages, Géo Guide et Routard...il y a plusieurs contradictions d'un à l'autre. Je prépare l'itinéraire depuis quelques temps, mais il y a tellement de belles choses à voir en Égypte!! Il y a plein de questions qui me traversent l'esprit, mais je ne veux pas vous "bombarder" en commençant hi!hi!

Merci de voler à mon secours...🤪

Bonjour,

je voudrais des informations sur cette emplacement, car je suis jamais aller et je pars le 12 février 2004 pour semaine, c'est un cadeau que j'ai offert à mon copain pour Noel. J'aimerais avoir des commantaires si c'est possible:

Les restaurants, la plage, activité, propreté des chambres, le service ect....

Merci à l'avance,

Sonya

coucou mio c'est virginie, j'ai 20 ans je commence en septembre une formation de jounralisme qui durera 3 ans.Le problème cest que mon copain est mexicain, qu'il trouve pas encore de job en France mais qu'il va certainement ent rouver en Europe, mais seulement je ne pense pas pour 3 ans, donc je pense à sérieusement revoir tout ça pur lui, et donc je voulais savoir s'il était possible de trouver du travail au Mexique, dans cette branche tout paritculièrement mais aussi dans d'autres.Merci!!

Bonjour !!!

Puisqu'on est dans le chapitre "Voyages à petits prix" j'en profite !!

Je suis parti à Londres en novembre dernier pour un week-end, avec mon copain pour seulement 300 F !!!

Et oui 300 F (charges d'aéroprt comprises). Franchement c'est à faire : un petit week-end en amoureux à Londres !

Par contre il faut que vous connaissiez du monde sur place pour vous herberger parce que les hotels sont très chers et le vie en générale est très chere. Petit exemple : 90 F la place de cinéma, 12 F le ticket de bus (à changer à chaque fois que vous changez de bus !!)

Côté hotel, on avait choisi un hôtel sur internet qui nous parraissait le moins cher (500 F la nuit !!!!!) et c'était une horreur, je vous le déconseille. Je n'ai pas le nom en tête, mais je pourrais le rechercher.

Je vous conseille de choisir des bed and breakfast ou des chaines d'hotels tel que Ibis. Je pense que vous aurez moins de surprise.

Enfin bref, si vous avez besoin d'infos pour partir un petit week-end à Londres bien sympathique, n'hésitez pas.

A +

Mumu

Bonjour,

Je m'appelle Muriel, j'ai 23 ans, j'habite en France à Nîmes (dans le sud) et je suis étudiante en Ecole de Gestion et de Commerce à Avignon.

Je finis mes études l'année prochaine et j'aimerais partir environ 6 mois au Vanuatu avec mon copain avant d'attaquer complétement la vie active.

Pourquoi le Vanuatu ? : en fait ça fait pas mal de temps que je prévois de partir vivre à l'étranger avant de travailler, et je prévoyais que ce soit dans les îles (peut être pour le côté paradisiaque). En fait mon copain à une connaissance au Vanautu et donc je pense que ce serait plus pratique en ayant quelqu'un sur place que l'on connaît (pas très courageux tout ça n'est ce pas) !!!).

Mais bon malgré ça je suis à la recherche de personnes qui sont déjà aller là-bas, afin de me décrire un peu plus le cadre, la vie là bas, les gens, etc... On ne trouve aucun bouquin sur le Vanuatu, même pas le guide dur routard. Si vous en connaissez je suis preneuse.

Si vous connaissez des plans aussi pour trouver du boulot sur place, mais aussi si il ya des papiers à avoir pour un long séjour sur place (visa ???).

Enfin bref, si vous pouvez m'aider pour tout ça, je vous attend sur ce site avec impatience.

Je vous remercie.

Mumu

Bonjour à tous!!!!

je m'appelle anne-laure, j'ai 22 ans et suis étudiante en histoire à Lyon. Je pars ce été avec mon copain au mois d'aout et nous disposons chacun d'un budget sur place de 1000 euros . Selon vous es ce sufffisant??? Eglement nous souhaiterions avoir des adresses précisses de logements pas chers (auberges de jeunesse, pension de famille ou autre...)ainsi que des infos sur les lieux qui vous ont marqué vous, afficionados du Mexique!!! Enfin nous souhaiterions connaitres certaines infos concernant le cout de la vie en gén��ral et le prix des bus pour se rendres dans les destinations que vous nous recommendez

Je vous embrasse tous et attends de vos nouvelles avec impatience!!!! A+

Salut tout le monde!

C'est officiel, je serai en France du 26 juin au 13 juillet. J'aurais besoin de quelques informations, si quelqu'un ici pouvait m'aider, ce serait très apprécié!

Nous arriverons sur Paris le 27 juin et nous cherchons (mon copain et moi), un hotel a prix modique dans un quartier intéressant. Auberge internationale des jeunes est-ce que quelqu'un connait? C'est celui qu'on s'est fait conseiller (proche de Notre-Dame).

Nous passerons 3 jours a Paris et nous désirons ensuite prendre le TGV pour Nice. Est qu'il y a un site internet où je pourrais obtenir les horaires de TGV et les prix?

À Nice, nous avons loué un petit studio pour 1 semaine. Nous pensons donc visiter ce qui se fait en une journée l'aller-retour. Avez-vous des suggestions d'endroits à ne pas manquer?? Quel est le meilleur moyen de voyager de Nice à Monaco, Nice a Cannes? Est-ce que ces 2 endroits vallent la peine? On m'a aussi parlé d'un canyon dans l'arrière-pays de Nice.

Après Nice, nous voulons aller à Carcassonne. Combien de temps me suggérez-vous pour visiter cette ville? Ça semble vraiment génial! Outre le HI, avez-vous des suggestions d'hotels modiques?

Après Carcassonne, nous pensons aller dans le Midi pour voir les paysages de Montagnes, mais nous ne savons pas où exactement. Encore une fois, des suggestions?? Hotels, villes, choses a voir, etc.

Finalement, est-ce que vous croyez que la FranceRail Pass serait avantageuse pour nous? C'est relativement cher, mais je ne sais pas combien coûte un billet de train (pour moins de 25 ans). Connaissez-vous un site où on peut avoir les horaires des trains, quelles liaisons ils font? Je suis allée sur le site de la sncf et je ne vois pas de train qui relie Nice a Carcassonne...

Je sais que je pose beaucoup de questions!!! C'est que c'est une décision de dernière minute, je ne connais a peu près pas la France et nous voulons réserver les premiers hotels d'avance.

Est-ce qu'il y aura des québécois (ou d'autres gens francophones) dans ces coins là en meme temps??

Je vous remercie beaucoup!!! J'AI HATE D'Y ETRE!!!!!

Véro 😎

🙂🙂

Je pars de montréal à destination de Bangkok le 31 mai jusqu'au 20 août!!! Je compte finalement faire le tour de la thailande et du vietnam et peut être plus si on a les finances!!!

C'est quand même 12 semaines perdus à 4000km de chez moi avec un copain...🤪 Ca fait assez peur à mes parents et surtout mon papapoule!!!

j'hésite maintenant entre mon sac de 75l. ou mon autre de 50 l.??? Je veux pas m'encombrer de trop gros mais je ne sais pas si je vais en avoir assez de 50l. ???

Je compte partir léger en linge et en acheter là bas à la place... Bonne idée ou non???

Bonjour et... bonne année 2003!

J'ai découvert ce site par hasard... Pas mal! Je veux aller faire un tour à Madère avec mon ami et un copain. 1 ou 2 semaines, probablement début Mai ou fin mai/début juin 2003. On est branché rando, nature, silence, mer (pas huile de bronzage 😉 ) Quelqu'un aurait-il des suggestions de ballades, de petits coins sympas (villages, ports, 'tit resto, gite, ...)? Comment visiter l'ile: sac-à-dos+bus+camping sauvage ou pas? Location voiture + camping sauvage ou pas? Chambre chez l'habitant?!? Ou se renseigner, passer par une agence? Site web? Merci de vos suggestions 🙂

Hi there,

I’d like to ride from Mahajanga to Morondava, sticking as close to the coast as possible—using roads and tracks—in September 2026. If you’ve got any suggestions, let me know! 😉

Paul

I filled out the B2 form to apply for a visa, created an account on Atvis to pay the visa fees and schedule a meet-up, but every time I try to pay with my Boursobank Visa 1st card, they refuse the payment with a message telling me to check my details (address), even though everything is correct. Does anyone know why this is happening, or maybe they don’t accept Visa cards? Are you aware of this? Thanks for your feedback! Elisabeth

Hi everyone, I’d love to bike from Lyon to Marrakech or Agadir. I’m looking for someone around my age (23) to join me. I’m also after some tips on routes, things to know, etc. This road trip is planned for September 2026. Looking forward to your replies and advice!

“Hey, your Marker... - My Marker? - The one you used to make hitchhiking signs.”

The marker in question is sitting proudly on the kitchen table. Marielle found it at the bottom of a moving box.

I’ve been meaning to tell the long story of my love affair with hitchhiking for years. Here we go.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure when it started. My earliest memory goes back to a fair with a bike race in my maternal grandparents’ village. I was with my cousin, my little sister, and three girl cousins. There were six of us, ages ranging from six or seven to thirteen or fourteen. Our parents stayed at the fair, and we’d had enough. So we decided to walk home. Only it was four kilometers away. So we hitchhiked. A guy driving an old car picked us all up and dropped us off at the farm. He probably found it amusing to see us thumbing a ride by the side of the road, but maybe it also worried him a bit. With everything you read in the papers...

Around fifteen or sixteen, I started hitchhiking regularly, alone or with a friend, to go to the nearby town. But it was especially when I started boarding school in Orléans that it became more regular. The first year, I’d leave Monday morning and come back Saturday noon by bus. It was an old, uncomfortable bus where we froze in winter. To make matters worse, I often got motion sickness if, as was too often the case, I ended up sitting in the back. In the spring, a high school friend suggested I hitchhike back. It meant a slight detour, but the advantage was taking only national roads.

So that’s how, from the end of tenth grade to twelfth grade, I’d thumb a ride every Saturday on the Pont de Bourgogne. Drivers were used to seeing young people hitchhiking, and it worked pretty well. Our biggest fear? Soldiers! At that time, military service was still mandatory, and on weekends, it wasn’t rare to see them competing with us. They’d keep their uniforms on to go home. That gave people confidence—with everything you read in the papers—and they’d rarely wait more than five minutes. We, with our long hair, were definitely less popular. From time to time, three big red-faced guys in a van coming back from a construction site would flip us off, yelling things like “go get a haircut, you bums!” Those were the good old days.

We still had a good laugh, though. Patrice, the friend I’d hitchhike back from school with on Saturdays, is a musician—I’d later discover he’s an excellent composer. A die-hard Beatles fan, he knows their repertoire by heart and spends his time singing at the top of his lungs while we thumb a ride. One Saturday late morning, we’d been waiting for a while at the exit of Châteauneuf-sur-Loire when a little lady came up to him and asked if he could please sing a little quieter: a baby was sleeping in the house. He put on the most sorry face: “Oh, sorry ma’am, we didn’t realize.” No sooner had the lady gone back inside than he started again. Luckily, a car stopped just then, sparing me the embarrassment of seeing the lady come back out.

Saturday was also the day when the cigarette pack was dangerously low. So before leaving, we’d go buy some “Parisiennes,” the “P4s” as we called them back then. They were slightly thinner cigarettes with a mix of tobacco scraps. Sometimes they tasted like light tobacco, sometimes like dark. Not great, but by the end of the week, our pocket money was gone. They were sold in small packs of four, hence the name P4. We’d only pay 20 centimes. On Saturdays, it was rare for the two of us to manage to scrape together 1.50 F to buy a whole pack of Gauloises...

The last twenty kilometers, I’d usually do alone, Patrice having reached his destination. From time to time, luck would smile on me: an acquaintance would just happen to pass by and stop. One January Saturday, at the exit of Gien, I ran into another guy from Argenton whom I knew a little. That day, the weather was nice, but the temperature was well below zero. It was around noon, and it was the off-peak hour. We were shivering, stamping our feet by the side of the road, when a Citroën “Tube” arrived: it was his father’s boss’s, a mason. They were both sitting in the front, but since they were obese, they had us climb onto the open back. Even though we huddled against the cab to shelter from the wind, the twenty kilometers felt very long, especially since we were only going sixty kilometers an hour. Our hands and cheeks were blue when we finally arrived.

The year I took my baccalaureate, a friend with a 2CV would take me Monday mornings with one or two others we’d pick up in nearby villages. We’d share the gas costs, but it was still cheaper than the bus. And in winter, the bus was my nightmare. You had to get up at five to catch it at six. Not enough sleep, and outside it was freezing or raining—or both. The 2CV was luxury. Plus, Philippe would pick me up at home. On the other hand, since I didn’t have class Saturday mornings—well, I did, but we only had PE the first two hours and nothing after—I’d skip class and slip out right after breakfast to thumb a ride at the Pont de Bourgogne.

Those three high school years were formative in this optional subject that was hitchhiking. Little by little, I learned the rules of the game. First, you shouldn’t walk along the road while thumbing. Cars go too fast and can’t stop easily. Accepting a ride that’s too short is also a no-go. The guy who offers to take you a little way but drops you off at some vague crossroads in the middle of nowhere? No thanks. You need to get dropped off in a town. If it’s a fairly big city, you often have to cross it from one end to the other, but it’s better. At the exit, you have to choose your spot well. Actually, you have to put yourself in the driver’s shoes: they need to see you early enough, not be going too fast, and be able to stop easily without risking an accident. So when leaving a city, it’s better not to go too far. It’s wiser to find a spot where cars go slowly and can stop easily. And preferably near a café. The café is for when you still have a few coins for a coffee and need to warm up. From time to time, you’d run into someone nice who’d make a detour to drop you off at a better spot to start again. Finally, if possible, avoid hitchhiking on Sundays. Cars are packed with whole families who, most of the time, aren’t going far. And then there’s the little worry of those people who rarely leave home: with everything you read in the papers...

During those high school years, it was only short trips, rarely exceeding a hundred kilometers. Later, I aimed bigger, and things were a bit different. In 1973-74, I crossed part of France for the first time on two or three occasions, coming back from the German border or returning to Bordeaux, where we lived briefly. Since there weren’t many highways back then, we took national roads. It was during these trips that I realized it was better to leave in the evening. As I said earlier, Sunday is to be avoided, but on weekdays, there’s another problem: if you leave in the morning, you only make short hops. First, it often takes longer to get going because drivers are people going to work nearby. Which brings us back to those who drop you off in a bad spot, far from everything. There, you have to know how to refuse. You thank the driver for stopping—oh, if only everyone could be like you—while explaining why you’d rather stay put. People don’t take offense, by the way. Those who pick up hitchhikers often hitchhiked themselves when they were in the military or before they had a car. In the late afternoon, you’d often run into salespeople or truckers, in other words, people who drive a lot. At that time, salespeople no longer had appointments and were more relaxed. They wanted to talk about something other than the merits of their products. On the radio, it was time for *Les Grosses Têtes*. You’d also quite often run into small business owners, professionals, or even hippies. The conversations were pleasant and often enriching. A little later in the evening, truckers would take over. They’d already driven a few hundred kilometers, and the depot or customs was still far away. So they’d gladly take a hitchhiker to stay awake at the wheel and chat. The radio with Max Ménier’s show *Les routiers sont sympas*, you’d eventually get tired of it. So a hitchhiker was a change. Others, who’d hit the road at midnight to be at their destination by morning, were nice and offered to let you lie down on the bunk while they drove. When you’d been hitchhiking since six in the evening, freezing in the wind between two vehicles, you weren’t unhappy to take a little nap.

Speaking of Max Ménier, he’d often make announcements for hitchhikers. One evening, I called him. It was getting late, and I still had quite a way to go. No luck: the show had ended for good the day before!

In short, it’s better not to rush, sleep in, and leave after lunch, or better yet, in the late afternoon. Obviously, I’m talking about when you have several hundred kilometers to cover. That’s when you have to play it pro.

First thing, especially at night, but it also applies in the middle of summer when the light is blinding: dress to be seen from far away. I’ll admit I have an advantage over most other hitchhikers: I’m small and don’t scare people. To balance that out, racist drivers often take me for an Arab and are less likely to pick me up, but overall, the balance tips in my favor. Back to the need to be seen: at night, I wear light-colored clothes. In headlights, you can see me from far away.

Second thing: travel light. Forget the big backpack with a frame. Drivers don’t always have room in the trunk or on the back seat, especially if it’s rained and the ground is wet. Plus, it forces them to get out of the car. If they’re nice enough to pick up a hitchhiker, you shouldn’t ask for too much either.

Third thing: bring a cardboard sign and a big marker—like the ones in the photo at the start of this post—to write the name of your destination. In the early 80s, I ran a tourist house in the Cher, but I lived in the Netherlands. In the off-season, it was only open on weekends. On Fridays, I’d leave Holland and return on Mondays. 1200 km round trip. On the way there, in Paris, I’d stand at Porte de la Chapelle. At that spot, the road is very wide, and drivers could stop easily. Obviously, on the sign, I didn’t write Eindhoven, which not everyone knows, and even less Amsterdam because of its seedy reputation. In that case, you’d expect to see a police car stop and two officers in kepis ask for your papers. So as a first destination, I’d write Compiègne. We were well out of Paris, and since it wasn’t too far, a trucker or salesperson was less reluctant to stop. Once past Compiègne, I’d take out my Lille sign. Once in Belgium, it wasn’t really necessary to use a sign anymore, since everyone was going in the same direction. Usually, the guy who picked me up at Porte de la Chapelle would say he wasn’t going far but could take me a little way. Before that, I’d still ask if there was a gas station on the highway where he could drop me off before exiting. While talking, the guy would realize he wasn’t dealing with a dangerous criminal. He’d pretend to check his watch, think for a moment, then say that actually, he was going to Belgium and could take me to the border or a little beyond. To leave Paris on the way back, I’d take the train to Melun, where it was easier to hitchhike than at Porte d’Italie.

Over all those years, I think I was pretty lucky. Or maybe philosophical enough not to imagine a car would stop after a few minutes. An hour’s wait was average. Sure, I sometimes waited three, four, or five hours. Most often at odd hours and in terrible weather. When it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But there’s always a moment when things pick up. Sure, when you’re soaked in freezing rain in the early morning after a sleepless night, you’re less philosophical than when I’m writing these lines comfortably at my computer, but it still holds true.

Earlier, I mentioned clothing and the importance of being well-rested before leaving. When you’ve eaten well and just gotten out of the shower, shaved, you’re in a better mood. And somehow, drivers sense it. Or at least, that’s the impression I’ve always had. It’s better to look in shape than disgusted at standing there, half-heartedly thumbing a ride. In short, when I’d start to get fed up with waiting, I’d go into the first café I saw for a coffee. Coming back out, I’d be refreshed, and most of the time, a car would stop within minutes. I’ve often said that when I stood by the side of the road thumbing a ride, I felt a bit like a gambler in front of a slot machine. It was a matter of giving luck a chance. And well, it worked out pretty well.

Then, there are countries where hitchhiking works really well and others where it’s harder. In the 70s-80s, it worked best in Germany and England. In the late afternoon, it wasn’t rare to be invited for tea. Well, that was in England. Tea meant being offered room and board. In Germany, they’d offer you coffee. Once there, they’d first show you the guest room and point out the bathroom before sitting you down in front of a big plate of cold cuts. In the evening, they’d go out in town, and the next morning, they’d usually drop you off at a good spot for hitchhiking. On the other hand, in Mediterranean and Scandinavian countries, you’d better be patient. In Spain or Italy, it’s better to take the train, which was dirt cheap back then. However, if you’re a couple traveling light, it’s already easier in most countries.

In 1982, I went on a trip around Turkey with my girlfriend. We only had two small bags, which was plenty. It was November-December, and we wore our warm, bulky clothes. Leaving Eindhoven at nine in the morning, we arrived in Graz, near the Yugoslav border, at eleven at night. 1300 km in a day! In just four or five vehicles. One to the German border, about fifty kilometers from Eindhoven, the second to Hagen in the Ruhr, the third to Salzburg, and the last to Graz at the Yugoslav border. Record broken. During the night crossing of Yugoslavia, we ran into a trucker close to retirement who lent us the truck’s bunk. So we arrived fresh and rested near Skopje the next morning. We continued to Thessaloniki in northern Greece before taking the train to Istanbul. In Turkey, we traveled a good part of the country by hitchhiking too. With truckers in old, overloaded, slow trucks that climbed hills at fifteen kilometers an hour, but also in cars where five or six people were already crammed in. And every time, we were invited for tea. Once, we were even picked up by a big shot in his Mercedes with a chauffeur. Until then, the average speed was around fifty kilometers an hour. There, we were going two hundred. On a national road, not a nice European highway.

I’ve also hitchhiked in Nepal, from Lumbini, Buddha’s birthplace, to a village on the way to Pokhara. It must have been midday. No bus until the next day. I gave it a try. A small truck overloaded with rice sacks, with two or three young people already perched on top, stopped. I rode on the roof of the cab. At fifty kilometers an hour when it was going well, with a breathtaking view. Coming back from India, I also crossed part of Iran by hitchhiking, from Tehran to the Turkish border. I did this trip with an Austrian I met at the hotel who, like me, had to watch his pennies. We gave it a shot. There was almost no traffic, but to our great surprise, the first car that passed in the area would always stop. They’d just ask for a modest contribution for gas, and it cost next to nothing.

Sometimes, you get scared too. After leaving Turkey in early December 82, we spent about two weeks in the southern Peloponnese harvesting olives. A few days before Christmas, we hitchhiked back to Holland. A girl picked us up in her little Fiat 500. We were driving on a mountain road, and that morning there was a bit of black ice. After crossing a pass, we saw the old Ford Taunus ahead of us at fifty meters start to skid. The driver let out a “heeee!” while grabbing my knees. I reflexively grabbed the wheel. Finally, the Taunus got back on track. And we didn’t swerve. But those few seconds felt very long.

In January 77, while I’d been living in Germany for a few months, I decided to spend a few days in Italy. By hitchhiking, of course. I left in the early afternoon, and by ten at night, I wasn’t far from Frankfurt. I saw a big Mercedes stop. The four or five young people crammed inside were listening to Schlager at full volume. Beer cans littered the floor. They didn’t have a precise destination, and as long as they were going south, that was fine with me. They’d finished their military service that very day and had clearly already celebrated their discharge. The driver was going 160, zigzagging dangerously from one side of the highway to the other. I should have realized he wasn’t entirely sober either. Luckily, there was almost no traffic. Finally, I managed to get dropped off at a gas station just before Frankfurt, relieved. I hope their trip didn’t end tragically.

Another time, coming back from Holland with my wife, we were picked up early in the morning near Senlis by two guys from Lille. They were going to work near Tours and could drop us off at Porte d’Italie. Apparently, they were coworkers but barely knew each other. The driver offered us a beer—at six in the morning, sure!—before opening another can for himself. He was clearly having trouble staying in the right lane. We politely declined, the passenger too. Everyone was tense. Luckily, it was rush hour on the ring road, and we were going slowly. When we got out of the car, the passenger said goodbye with the look of a guy being offered the condemned man’s rum and cigarette.

Finally, there are the annoying remarks from drivers who are either gay when you’re alone or turned on by the sight of your girlfriend when you’re a couple. In those cases, I’d get in the back so the guy wouldn’t feel too confident. And if the conversation got a little too suggestive, we’d deflect until we got dropped off.

And luckily, there are the times, not so rare after all, when you run into really nice people who invite you to eat and sleep at their place and drive you to a good spot the next morning. In Germany and England, that was common. And then there are the big strokes of luck, like during our trip to Turkey when we crossed most of Germany in one car, or that other time when some Germans drove me from the exit of Geneva all the way to the Costa Brava.

Going back to “with everything you read in the papers” and its variant “with everything you see on TV”—and now on the internet—it’s always left me perplexed. Personally, I’ve never heard of hitchhikers assaulting drivers, even if it may have happened. On the other hand, what was most common were hitchhikers being assaulted, especially girls. Anyway, even armed, it seems a bit stupid to assault the driver—wouldn’t that risk causing an accident?

Finally, since that time, I’ve occasionally wanted to hitchhike somewhere far away in France. Most often, too busy with work, it never happened, but the nostalgia hasn’t completely disappeared.

* * *

Other Hitchhikers

And then one day, I... settled down to become a driver myself. Ten years had passed, and you saw fewer and fewer hitchhikers. Or maybe I saw fewer because I had a regular job and wasn’t traveling the same way. And then I understood a few things.

Several times, I was tempted to pick up a hitchhiker, but they didn’t meet the required conditions. They were walking along the road instead of staying at the exit of the previous town. Hard to stop without risking an accident. Or the guy looked really scruffy. Or he was sulking, if not both. Then you think of that famous “with everything you read in the papers.” Not that I was scared, but unfortunately, the few hitchhikers I did pick up later were rarely interesting.

A few years ago, we picked up a young guy at the exit of a small town in Sologne. Not an easy spot for hitchhiking. Bad luck, he was a pretentious little jerk. He was barely 20 or 25 and talked like a bitter old man. He was a waiter in a restaurant. According to him, it was lucky he was there, otherwise the boss would have closed up shop long ago. You’d think he had thirty or forty years of professional experience behind him. As we approached Blois, he started ranting about Arabs, blaming them for all evils. And he laid it on thick. That morning, we were going to a teenager’s funeral who had just committed suicide, so he really got on our nerves, Mr. Know-It-All. Out of anger, I dropped him off next to a shopping center a few kilometers from downtown. Not nice, but it felt good.

Some time ago, we were driving around the Limousin on a Sunday to try out the used Twingo we’d just bought. We picked up a guy in his forties. A German who spoke French well. He started talking about the environment. He was a green Khmer. He got worked up all by himself with his pseudo-eco rant and, after a few kilometers, was almost yelling at us. As we were about to leave the main road for a small one, I dropped him off at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. Normally, I would have made a little detour to take him to a better spot, but this time, I didn’t feel like doing the... eco-warrior a favor.

On the other hand, I’ve still done my good deed a few times. One June morning, coming back from Orléans, I saw a man in his sixties hitchhiking. The poor guy had had a rough time. He was from Montpellier and was coming back from Caen, where he’d been promised a job. Once there, they bluntly told him the position was already taken, and he had to go back. Except he didn’t have enough money left for the train. He’d spent the night hitchhiking without success. I could only take him as far as Lamotte-Beuvron, where I dropped him off near the fire station. Apparently, there was some vague shelter there or something, but it only opened a few hours later. In the meantime, he settled on the grass in a corner to sleep a little. While he was doing that, I quickly went to the train station to check the price of a ticket to Montpellier. It was within my means. Since he was sound asleep, I slipped the train ticket and 100 francs into his pocket. I couldn’t imagine him continuing to hitchhike all the way to Montpellier. And I bet he didn’t even have a piece of cardboard and a marker!

When we go to Brazil, we usually rent a small car. One day, we were coming back from Paracuru to Fortaleza when we saw a whole family hitchhiking. Two adults and two or three small children. Here near the equator, the sun sets very quickly, and it would soon be night. There was little traffic, and trucks wouldn’t stop because there was no room in the cab. As for the rich people driving big 4x4s, they wouldn’t stoop to picking up the lower classes. The only hope for this kind of family was usually a farmer or artisan who’d let them ride in the back of his pickup. Obviously, they were a bit surprised to see us. Everyone crammed in as best they could in the back of our little car. When we dropped them off, we got a whole string of “Deus lhes abençõe”—God bless you.

Still in Brazil, we were on the road from Barreirinhas to São Luís do Maranhão. About 150 km of deserted road with an isolated mud house here and there. A young woman flagged us down. She was very pregnant and had to get to the clinic twenty or thirty kilometers away to give birth. Someone was supposed to drive her, but the first signs of labor started earlier than expected, and the driver was unavailable. Even driving fast, we weren’t feeling great: it would be just our luck if she gave birth in the car!

Today, we’re in the age of smartphones and carpooling apps. Safety. With everything you see on TV... Three or four years ago, we signed up on a platform. Our first, and only, “client” was a little jerk who didn’t say a word the whole trip. No hello, no goodbye, and certainly no thank you. The next day, we found his Ray-Bans in the car. We didn’t run after him to give them back. Ha!

Hello, We’ll soon be moving to Madagascar long-term. As a French national, I need to obtain a short-stay visa that can be converted to a long-stay one. To do this, I have to send the required documents to the Madagascar embassy in Paris. No issues with that procedure so far. If I get this visa, once I arrive in Madagascar, I’ll need to provide the same documents to the Ministry of the Interior in Anosy. I’m trying to find an email address or website for the Ministry to check which documents I need to submit (I think they ask for additional ones). If you have any info on this, I’d appreciate your replies. Best regards, M. Buisson Eric

Hi there,

We’d like to travel overland from Turkey to India in our converted van, but there are very few options these days. Crossing Iran seems risky and not particularly safe. Has anyone here done it? If so, which route did you take to minimize safety concerns?

Thanks for your replies, Julie 😎

Does it seem feasible and reasonable to travel to Laos (or Cambodia) as early as January or February 2025? I don’t have any precise information about the damage these countries have suffered.

Bonjour,

Êtes-vous allés à Berlin très récemment? les clubs et autres lieux confinés sont bien-sûr fermés mais quid des musées? Est-ce que malgré les mesures sanitaires, on les visite facilement/sans réservation préalable, du fait de la baisse de fréquentation?

Merci d'avance.

Bonjour, Je suis actuellement étudiante et j'ai 22 ans, j'ai un petit-ami Philippin que j'ai rencontré à Séoul, en Corée du Sud, qui est lui-même étudiant universitaire là-bas. En ce moment je suis encore à Séoul jusqu'en Septembre. Au début je me disais que ce n'était qu'une amourette, mais lorsque l'on s'aperçoit à quel point la personne nous est devenue importante et en or, on commence à vouloir rester en couple avec elle même à des milliers de kilomètres... Alors nous allons rester ensemble et j'aimerais que mon amour vienne en France pour les vacances d'hiver 2020. Le but serait qu'il reste de fin décembre à mi-février. Cependant sa situation est vraiment très particulière... D'abord car il est étudiant universitaire à Séoul. Donc il est déjà expatrié de son pays pour encore quelques années... Ensuite, il n'a pas beaucoup d'argent, je ne dis pas qu'il soit pauvre, il a un compte bancaire, il a une bourse, quelques boulots pour subventionné ses besoins et il est en mesure de payer son billet d'avion pour venir jusqu'en France. Mais j'ai entendu dire sur plusieurs forums qu'il est très difficile pour un Philippin de venir en France même si il s'agit de courte durée. Je sais qu'il existe un visa courte-durée de maximum 90 jours pour venir en France. Je me demandais si avec ses caractèristique mon copain pourrait obtenir ce visa afin de découvrir ma culture et notre patrimoine. J'ajouterai qu'il ne sera pas possible à mon ami de retourner aux Philippines juste pour aller à l'ambassade faire sa demande de visa, est-il possible pour lui d'envoyer un de ses proches ou de faire sa demande via-courrier? Je trouve cela tellement problèmatique et injuste de la part des gouvernements européens de rendre si compliquer le fait de juste voyager pour les Philippins... Cela me rend malheureuse car nous voulons vraiment rester ensemble et partager nos cultures... Quelqu'un pourrait-il donc me renseigner sur les différents moyens qu'il existe pour qu'il obtienne un visa pour les vacances?

Bonjour, je cherche des témoignages d'heureux (ou pas) utilisateurs de la très fameuse Brooks flyer (vous savez, celle qui a de gros ressorts partout). Cette selle a un fort joli look rétro qui n'est pas pour me déplaire, mais.... elle ne fait pas l'unanimité semble t-il. On lui reproche (de ci de là) son poids conséquent et un manque d'efficacité sur sa fonction première : porter nos modestes séants de la façon la plus confortable qui soit en gommant autant que possible les irrégularités de la route. Peine perdue ? C'est ce que j'ai longtemps pensé (cette question me hante jour et nuit)

Pourtant, certains en sont très satisfaits. Elle a ses adeptes, ses aficionados.

Les 300 grammes supplémentaires que cette selle affiche sont-ils justifiés ? Accessoirement : Ne risque t-on pas de s'en coincer une dans les spires des ressorts, par un malheureux concours de circonstances (vélo et naturisme font bon ménage) ? Non, oubliez cette dernière question...

Enfin bref, si parmi vous quelqu'un a un avis avisé sur la question, je serai heureux de l'écouter.

nb : Mon souhait n'est pas de relancer le sempiternel débat entre partisan du tout cuir et ceux du tout plastique, ni raviver la guerre interstellaire entre SMP et Brooks (voire Italia et Berthoud). Juste savoir si la Brooks B17 Flyer est à la hauteur d'une réputation qu'elle peine à avoir.

J'ai un projet de voyage au Kirghizistan pour 2021. avez-vous des sites pour me procurer la carte du pays. . Quelle période la plus idéale. Merci de me donner vos astuces et idées de découverte. Adresse d'agence francophone correcte. Je privilégie l'hébergement chez l'habitant, être en contact avec les locaux.

Je relaie cette information vue sur un autre forum et envoyée par un ami namibien sur place

Bonjour, Le président namibien a ordonné ce jour la clôture de l’espace aérien namibien pour 30 jours à effet immédiat

Vrrrrrm, vrmmmm! (phone on vibrate)

"Hi Mamido, it's Clémence." Clémence, 5 years old, is a giggly, cheerful little girl and the queen of mischief.

"Mom says we're coming to your place until the holidays because we're on vacation tonight."

"Yes, I know. She asked me—do you know why?" "Because of the croronavirus." "And do you know what that is?"

"Oh yeah, at school Théo told me it's like a louse that doesn't itch, that doesn't get in your head but in your lungs, that it's all round with red bumps like raspberries, and that it makes old people die."

"Your friend knows a lot of things."

"His dad showed him a microscope picture, and you—are you old?" "What do you think?" "Well, yeah, but only a little because you always leave on your motorcycle to travel. Are you going traveling?"

"No, because you're coming with your brother and sister."

"Can we go to the little bridge to look for frog eggs? You remember, there were some last year, and we'll make them grow and put the baby frogs in the washhouse, and we'll also make boats to put in the stream so they can go to the sea." "That's a great idea." "And you'll make me the model in print letters so I can write which country my boat is going to." "Where do you want your boat to go?" "To the land of pandas—is it far?" "Oh yes, very far." "Then we have to make the boat strong so it doesn't sink." "Promise, we'll have so much fun." "Mom says in some countries they wear masks. Do you still have the chicken, rabbit, and pig masks in the attic? Can we wear them like that?"

"You know, here there are only trees, birds, and fields—we'll do whatever we want."

"Mom's calling me."

Click, she hangs up, and I laugh.