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Staircases. Photo contest theme for May 2026.
Hello
This month’s photo contest theme for May 2026 is "Staircases"
Plural or singular? Does it really matter as long as you’re told you’ve gone up or down them well?
Anyway, it’s not that complicated, even though I’m sure some will manage to overcomplicate it—after all, why keep things simple when making them complicated is so much more fun (as an Indian proverb goes).
To participate: Submit your photos until Monday, May 25 at 11:59 PM You can post up to 3 photos, numbered and shared in separate messages, along with a short description of the location and the story behind it.
To vote: From Tuesday, May 26 at 12:01 AM until Saturday, May 30 at 11:59 PM After the deadline, it’s too late.
Please include the photo number, username, and the points awarded: Photo #1 = 3 pts Photo #2 = 2 pts Photo #3 = 1 pt
All VF members can vote (even those who didn’t submit photos). In case of a tie for first place, the winning photo will be the one with the most first-place votes, then second-place votes! The lucky winner will get to organize June 2026’s photo contest.
For discussions about the theme, click here: Discussion thread for May 2026’s theme: Staircases
This month’s photo contest theme for May 2026 is "Staircases"
Plural or singular? Does it really matter as long as you’re told you’ve gone up or down them well?
Anyway, it’s not that complicated, even though I’m sure some will manage to overcomplicate it—after all, why keep things simple when making them complicated is so much more fun (as an Indian proverb goes).
To participate: Submit your photos until Monday, May 25 at 11:59 PM You can post up to 3 photos, numbered and shared in separate messages, along with a short description of the location and the story behind it.
To vote: From Tuesday, May 26 at 12:01 AM until Saturday, May 30 at 11:59 PM After the deadline, it’s too late.
Please include the photo number, username, and the points awarded: Photo #1 = 3 pts Photo #2 = 2 pts Photo #3 = 1 pt
All VF members can vote (even those who didn’t submit photos). In case of a tie for first place, the winning photo will be the one with the most first-place votes, then second-place votes! The lucky winner will get to organize June 2026’s photo contest.
For discussions about the theme, click here: Discussion thread for May 2026’s theme: Staircases
A whimsical taste of coming back!
I left my heart’s country eight days ago and returned to my adopted one—or was it the other way around? Scotland-Morvan, Morvan-Scotland, I’m not quite sure anymore.
After a quarter without dragging my slippers around here, even though I’d loudly declared I had no interest left in this site, here I am again!
My imagination never stays fallow for long. Just enough time for my inner land to rest. It gets overgrown with fresh nettles, the kind you can pick without getting stung. Then, it’s time to till the fragrant earth and let the story grow.
I hesitated over where to set this story. Maybe the Highlands, maybe the Hebrides, maybe the Orkney Islands, maybe the Shetland Islands. All of Scotland is myth—easy to embroider. But in the end, no. I’d almost be too afraid to bare my soul.
The story will take place at home. Simple, practical.
1)
This morning, I was up well before dawn, feeling a bit grumpy, but nothing a bowl of coffee won’t fix. I love my bowl, and no one dares take it. It’s porcelain, edged with intertwined blue flowers. On the bottom, it says "Revol." The factory has existed long before the Revolution. It was my great-grandmother’s bowl. She drank roasted barley from it during the war, then her Leroux chicory.
Last year, a little guy dropped it. My bowl broke into three pieces. A black anger vibrated deep inside me. The little boy was so upset, on the verge of tears. How could I scold him!
I picked up the three pieces and took Little Boy in my arms. His hair smelled of the light, sweet sweat of toddlers. A gentle hug that healed—his budding sorrow and my anger—everything vanished, and time carried on.
Today, my bowl is even prettier. Man fixed it using the traditional kintsugi technique, except he didn’t use gold powder or lacquer but superglue, and he delicately painted the cracks with woad blue. And my bowl is even more beautiful now.
I’m lingering, I can tell—it’s just that a story wraps itself in life, and life can’t be told in the snap of a finger. Life is long. Like in architecture, you start with a rough sketch, called a "sous-cul" (the initial pencil drawing), then you make a tracing, which is the work itself, the one you later carefully roll up in a wooden tube. Life is like that: you erase, you start over, you use the nub of the pencil until it’s tiny, but you keep going—dreaming, loving.
"Living is a full-time occupation, a unique adventure. Always a surprise and a wonder, which sometimes turns into astonishment. And, from time to time, happiness."*
Alright, enough digressing—this introduction is definitely too long. Tomorrow, I’ll get to the heart of the matter. (I hate that expression; it feels like I’m cutting into someone’s skin.)
*Jean d’Ormesson
2)
After a quarter without dragging my slippers around here, even though I’d loudly declared I had no interest left in this site, here I am again!
My imagination never stays fallow for long. Just enough time for my inner land to rest. It gets overgrown with fresh nettles, the kind you can pick without getting stung. Then, it’s time to till the fragrant earth and let the story grow.
I hesitated over where to set this story. Maybe the Highlands, maybe the Hebrides, maybe the Orkney Islands, maybe the Shetland Islands. All of Scotland is myth—easy to embroider. But in the end, no. I’d almost be too afraid to bare my soul.
The story will take place at home. Simple, practical.
1)
This morning, I was up well before dawn, feeling a bit grumpy, but nothing a bowl of coffee won’t fix. I love my bowl, and no one dares take it. It’s porcelain, edged with intertwined blue flowers. On the bottom, it says "Revol." The factory has existed long before the Revolution. It was my great-grandmother’s bowl. She drank roasted barley from it during the war, then her Leroux chicory.
Last year, a little guy dropped it. My bowl broke into three pieces. A black anger vibrated deep inside me. The little boy was so upset, on the verge of tears. How could I scold him!
I picked up the three pieces and took Little Boy in my arms. His hair smelled of the light, sweet sweat of toddlers. A gentle hug that healed—his budding sorrow and my anger—everything vanished, and time carried on.
Today, my bowl is even prettier. Man fixed it using the traditional kintsugi technique, except he didn’t use gold powder or lacquer but superglue, and he delicately painted the cracks with woad blue. And my bowl is even more beautiful now.
I’m lingering, I can tell—it’s just that a story wraps itself in life, and life can’t be told in the snap of a finger. Life is long. Like in architecture, you start with a rough sketch, called a "sous-cul" (the initial pencil drawing), then you make a tracing, which is the work itself, the one you later carefully roll up in a wooden tube. Life is like that: you erase, you start over, you use the nub of the pencil until it’s tiny, but you keep going—dreaming, loving.
"Living is a full-time occupation, a unique adventure. Always a surprise and a wonder, which sometimes turns into astonishment. And, from time to time, happiness."*
Alright, enough digressing—this introduction is definitely too long. Tomorrow, I’ll get to the heart of the matter. (I hate that expression; it feels like I’m cutting into someone’s skin.)
*Jean d’Ormesson
2)
Storm in the Canary Islands
15 days across Gran Canaria, El Hierro, and a dash of Tenerife under the storm Thérèse!
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
The planned itinerary will be slightly disrupted...
(The version without discussions is here)
Back in Tunisia (live account)
Hi there,
On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while. When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing. The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
TO BE CONTINUED....
On this forum, I shared my first trip to Tunisia from mid-February to early March (https://voyageforum.com/forum/impressions-tunisiennes-en-direct-d11460662/), a stay I enjoyed so much that six weeks later, I’m back in Tunisia for a full 15 days (I return on April 27).
This time, I landed in Monastir on a direct flight from Nice, again with Tunisair. We left about ten minutes late, and the flight lasted around 1 hour 30 minutes. A meal was served on board (cucumber salad with Edam-like cheese, carrots, and two small portions of dishes I couldn’t identify—semolina with peppers, olives, and parsley, two small rolls, a square of processed cheese, and a chocolate cake). It’s worth noting because it’s not common on flights this short.
In February, France and Tunisia were in the same time zone, but now Tunisia is one hour behind. This time difference and the flight duration work perfectly for a short 15-day trip since it takes me a few days to adjust to jet lag.
Luckily, I’d asked my hotel about the taxi fare from the airport because the drivers (there were several around me) didn’t hesitate to quote outrageous prices. The actual fare is 20 dinars, but one asked for 120 dinars. I refused, and another offered 60 dinars. I replied, "That’s too expensive—I’ll take the metro!" (Having tried the Tunis metro, I had no desire to repeat the experience in Monastir with a suitcase!). I started walking toward the metro, and one of the drivers caught up with me, saying, "20 dinars is fine!" I’ll skip the details, but the negotiation took a little while. When I arrived at the hotel, I told the receptionist someone had asked for 120 dinars. He put his hands to his head and said, "They’re awful!" He remembered our phone call two days earlier when I’d booked (he’s the one who told me I could take the metro).
The Mezri Hotel isn’t expensive. I got a sea-view room for 75 dinars (22 €). (I’d booked a balcony room for 90 dinars but wouldn’t have had time to enjoy it.) It’s well-located but noisy because there’s no double glazing. The receptionist is a very kind older gentleman. He called a friend whose wife is from Tozeur to find out if I should take a bus or a *louage* tomorrow and what time.
I arrived at the hotel around 7:00 PM and had time to stroll along the corniche to the ribat. Despite some run-down buildings, the seaside seemed livelier and cheerier than Sousse’s.
Monastir is the hometown of former president Bourguiba. I passed his mausoleum by taxi. There are Tunisian flags along the avenue by the sea because every year on April 6—the anniversary of Habib Bourguiba’s death—the president of the Republic visits the Bourguiba Mausoleum in Monastir to pay respects.
The taxi driver mentioned other Tunisian presidents. He complained about rising prices and insecurity, blaming President Kaïs Saïed (I’d already heard that security was better under Ben Ali).
At the end of my stay, I’ll take time to explore Monastir, but tomorrow morning, I’m off to Tozeur—a long bus ride awaits me.
TO BE CONTINUED....
From Avignon to Casamance Without Flying
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!
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!
What are your suggestions for visiting Naples and the Amalfi Coast?
Hi there,
We’re planning a trip for October to visit Naples (6 nights) and the Amalfi Coast (5 nights). We’ve already got the historic center and the Lapis Museum in Naples, Pompeii, Herculaneum, Procida, Sorrento, and Ravello on our list. Any suggestions, addresses, or tips?
Thanks for your help.
Off on an adventure in Sri Lanka
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?
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?
A Bold Combo: Southern Peru, Bolivia, and Northern Chile
Hello everyone,
For our latest 3-week family trip (yes, the kids are growing up, and two of them are about to enter the working world), we’re heading to South America! For our first time on this continent, I had planned a classic 3-week loop in Peru.
But since we won’t be returning to this part of the world anytime soon, I thought: why not follow in the footsteps of Franck, aka Bibouns51, who, in 18 days, didn’t just stick to Peru but also added two of the planet’s most stunning landscapes to his itinerary... the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia and its neighbor, the fabulous Atacama Desert in northern Chile !!
So, I set about the tricky task of limiting the regions we’d visit in Peru to those we considered must-sees, to avoid rushing too much. The visit schedules were optimized, including several comfortable overnight buses that have the huge advantage of letting us hop between regions.
So, we’re off on a somewhat adventurous trip with three domestic flights (two on the first day and one on the last), two overnight buses for quick hops, several car rentals, the services of a few drivers to make the trip more comfortable, and even a tour operator for crossing the Salar...
Our main concern is altitude sickness, and we’re bringing Diamox, aspirin, etc., just in case.
Our second worry before departure was not even getting off the ground... Yes, for once, we’re leaving from France—Marseille, to be exact. The week before our departure, with the surprise air traffic controllers’ strike, I remembered why we usually prefer to leave from abroad, like Turin or Barcelona... In the end, it wasn’t the air traffic controllers who made us nervous but the early July wildfires that paralyzed the airport a few days before our departure. Fortunately, the fires were quickly brought under control, and on the big day, everything was smooth sailing!
Detailed itinerary (which changed on Day 1 due to departure hiccups): Day 0: Flight Marseille - Madrid - Lima PERU Theoretical and abandoned Day 1: Flight Lima - Cuzco and visit Cuzco (Puka Pukara, Tambomachay, Cristo Blanco Observatory, Sacsayhuaman sunset) - Night in Cuzco Day 2: Taxi -> Chinchero - Moray - Maras Salt Mines - Ollantaytambo - Train to Aguas Calientes Day 3: Machu Picchu - Return train to Ollantaytambo Day 4: 2-day taxi -> Pisac - Tipon - Andahuaylillas - Huaro - Night in San Pedro Day 5: Palcoyo - Checacupe - Vinicunca - Return and night in Cuzco Day 6: Day in Cuzco (catch-up on Sacsayhuaman, San Blas district, Temple of the Sun) - Overnight bus to Arequipa Day 7: Rental car -> On the road to Colca Canyon, night in Cabanaconde Day 8: Descent to the bottom of Colca Canyon, night at Oasis Sangalle Day 9: Ascent from the canyon - Maca - Chivay - Return and night in Arequipa Day 10: Visit Arequipa (Santa Catalina Convent, La Recoleta Church and Monastery, La Compañía Church, Cathedral) - Overnight bus to Puno Day 11: Lake Titicaca - Night in Puno BOLIVIA Day 12: Shared taxi -> Road to La Paz, visit downtown La Paz - Night 1 in La Paz Day 13: Moon Valley and Las Animas Valley - Night 2 in La Paz Day 14: Day in La Paz - Night 3 in La Paz Day 15: Flight to Uyuni - Day 1 of Salar de Uyuni tour - Night at the edge of the Salar Day 16: Crossing the Lipez region and lagoons - Night near Laguna Colorada Day 17: Sol de Mañana CHILE Day 17 cont.: Pre-booked transfer to SPDA - 4x4 rental - Pukara de Quitor - Stargazing tour - Night 1 in SPDA Day 18: Death Valley and Moon Valley - Night 2 in SPDA Day 19: Miscanti and Miniques Lagoons, Salar de Aguas Calientes and its Piedra Roja, Tebenquiche Lagoon and Quebrada del Diablo - Night 3 in SPDA Day 20: Rainbow Valley and swim in the Puritama River - Night 4 in SPDA Day 21: Tebenquiche Lagoon - Bus to Calama - Flight to Santiago Day 22: Return Santiago - Madrid - Marseille
Day 0 - 11/07: Destination Lima
Our first flight from Marseille went smoothly to our Iberia layover in Madrid.
In Madrid, just after getting off the plane around 8 PM, and as we were walking through the terminal, we got a rude awakening!!
We saw the word "Cancelled" next to our flight number on the display boards. Thinking it must be a glitch, we checked another screen, but the system was stubborn, and the same dreaded word appeared !
So, we headed to the Iberia counter, where an agent confirmed that our Friday evening flight was canceled and rescheduled for the next morning. The reason? A breakdown and no replacement plane, even though we were in Madrid, Iberia’s home base!
To make matters worse, I remembered our super-tight schedule, planned to the minute, with no buffer day in Lima. Since I’m a bit phobic of megacities and hadn’t found anything appealing in the Peruvian capital in our guidebooks, we’d planned to leave Lima as soon as possible for Cusco, the heart of the Sacred Valley, to spend our first day there.
Bad idea, because we already knew the 4-hour buffer wouldn’t be enough, and we’d miss the domestic flight, which was, of course, non-refundable and non-changeable. So, we had to call LATAM from Madrid to find another flight for Saturday evening and negotiate a rate to recover some of our initial outlay.
After an hour on the phone with customer service, several endless holds, and three failed attempts to dictate our credit card number over the phone to a Spaniard speaking English with a thick accent, we finally managed to confirm the transaction, securing our new flight tickets for a moderate extra cost of just 150 € total.
At first, we were pretty bummed about losing a day and incurring extra fees to reschedule the domestic flight, but then, when we learned from an Iberia customer service rep that we’d receive the max compensation of 600 € per traveler, we even ended up grinning... because 3000 € in refunds for only losing the first day in Cusco? We’d sign up for that 10 times over!!
Iberia then took care of us, putting us up in a hotel where we had dinner before a short 5-hour night and an early morning departure. I took the opportunity to improvise a quick day of sightseeing in Lima, focusing on the Barranco and Miraflores districts.
For our latest 3-week family trip (yes, the kids are growing up, and two of them are about to enter the working world), we’re heading to South America! For our first time on this continent, I had planned a classic 3-week loop in Peru.
But since we won’t be returning to this part of the world anytime soon, I thought: why not follow in the footsteps of Franck, aka Bibouns51, who, in 18 days, didn’t just stick to Peru but also added two of the planet’s most stunning landscapes to his itinerary... the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia and its neighbor, the fabulous Atacama Desert in northern Chile !!
So, I set about the tricky task of limiting the regions we’d visit in Peru to those we considered must-sees, to avoid rushing too much. The visit schedules were optimized, including several comfortable overnight buses that have the huge advantage of letting us hop between regions.
So, we’re off on a somewhat adventurous trip with three domestic flights (two on the first day and one on the last), two overnight buses for quick hops, several car rentals, the services of a few drivers to make the trip more comfortable, and even a tour operator for crossing the Salar...
Our main concern is altitude sickness, and we’re bringing Diamox, aspirin, etc., just in case.
Our second worry before departure was not even getting off the ground... Yes, for once, we’re leaving from France—Marseille, to be exact. The week before our departure, with the surprise air traffic controllers’ strike, I remembered why we usually prefer to leave from abroad, like Turin or Barcelona... In the end, it wasn’t the air traffic controllers who made us nervous but the early July wildfires that paralyzed the airport a few days before our departure. Fortunately, the fires were quickly brought under control, and on the big day, everything was smooth sailing!
Detailed itinerary (which changed on Day 1 due to departure hiccups): Day 0: Flight Marseille - Madrid - Lima PERU Theoretical and abandoned Day 1: Flight Lima - Cuzco and visit Cuzco (Puka Pukara, Tambomachay, Cristo Blanco Observatory, Sacsayhuaman sunset) - Night in Cuzco Day 2: Taxi -> Chinchero - Moray - Maras Salt Mines - Ollantaytambo - Train to Aguas Calientes Day 3: Machu Picchu - Return train to Ollantaytambo Day 4: 2-day taxi -> Pisac - Tipon - Andahuaylillas - Huaro - Night in San Pedro Day 5: Palcoyo - Checacupe - Vinicunca - Return and night in Cuzco Day 6: Day in Cuzco (catch-up on Sacsayhuaman, San Blas district, Temple of the Sun) - Overnight bus to Arequipa Day 7: Rental car -> On the road to Colca Canyon, night in Cabanaconde Day 8: Descent to the bottom of Colca Canyon, night at Oasis Sangalle Day 9: Ascent from the canyon - Maca - Chivay - Return and night in Arequipa Day 10: Visit Arequipa (Santa Catalina Convent, La Recoleta Church and Monastery, La Compañía Church, Cathedral) - Overnight bus to Puno Day 11: Lake Titicaca - Night in Puno BOLIVIA Day 12: Shared taxi -> Road to La Paz, visit downtown La Paz - Night 1 in La Paz Day 13: Moon Valley and Las Animas Valley - Night 2 in La Paz Day 14: Day in La Paz - Night 3 in La Paz Day 15: Flight to Uyuni - Day 1 of Salar de Uyuni tour - Night at the edge of the Salar Day 16: Crossing the Lipez region and lagoons - Night near Laguna Colorada Day 17: Sol de Mañana CHILE Day 17 cont.: Pre-booked transfer to SPDA - 4x4 rental - Pukara de Quitor - Stargazing tour - Night 1 in SPDA Day 18: Death Valley and Moon Valley - Night 2 in SPDA Day 19: Miscanti and Miniques Lagoons, Salar de Aguas Calientes and its Piedra Roja, Tebenquiche Lagoon and Quebrada del Diablo - Night 3 in SPDA Day 20: Rainbow Valley and swim in the Puritama River - Night 4 in SPDA Day 21: Tebenquiche Lagoon - Bus to Calama - Flight to Santiago Day 22: Return Santiago - Madrid - Marseille
Day 0 - 11/07: Destination Lima
Our first flight from Marseille went smoothly to our Iberia layover in Madrid.
In Madrid, just after getting off the plane around 8 PM, and as we were walking through the terminal, we got a rude awakening!!
We saw the word "Cancelled" next to our flight number on the display boards. Thinking it must be a glitch, we checked another screen, but the system was stubborn, and the same dreaded word appeared !
So, we headed to the Iberia counter, where an agent confirmed that our Friday evening flight was canceled and rescheduled for the next morning. The reason? A breakdown and no replacement plane, even though we were in Madrid, Iberia’s home base!
To make matters worse, I remembered our super-tight schedule, planned to the minute, with no buffer day in Lima. Since I’m a bit phobic of megacities and hadn’t found anything appealing in the Peruvian capital in our guidebooks, we’d planned to leave Lima as soon as possible for Cusco, the heart of the Sacred Valley, to spend our first day there.
Bad idea, because we already knew the 4-hour buffer wouldn’t be enough, and we’d miss the domestic flight, which was, of course, non-refundable and non-changeable. So, we had to call LATAM from Madrid to find another flight for Saturday evening and negotiate a rate to recover some of our initial outlay.
After an hour on the phone with customer service, several endless holds, and three failed attempts to dictate our credit card number over the phone to a Spaniard speaking English with a thick accent, we finally managed to confirm the transaction, securing our new flight tickets for a moderate extra cost of just 150 € total.
At first, we were pretty bummed about losing a day and incurring extra fees to reschedule the domestic flight, but then, when we learned from an Iberia customer service rep that we’d receive the max compensation of 600 € per traveler, we even ended up grinning... because 3000 € in refunds for only losing the first day in Cusco? We’d sign up for that 10 times over!!
Iberia then took care of us, putting us up in a hotel where we had dinner before a short 5-hour night and an early morning departure. I took the opportunity to improvise a quick day of sightseeing in Lima, focusing on the Barranco and Miraflores districts.
Ideas for a one-week Andalusia itinerary
Hi everyone,
I’m sharing my draft itinerary with you because I just booked our flight tickets, and I feel like it’s quite late in the season. So, I’d like to be sure about my stops before reserving the hotels. I’ll be traveling alone with my two adult children. We want to prioritize outdoor walks, avoid too many indoor visits (both for budget and preference), and not spend too much time on the road.
D1: Arrival at 9 AM in Malaga, day in Malaga and overnight stay D2: Head straight to Nerja (1-hour drive) and spend the night there D3: Head straight to Granada (1.5-hour drive), spend the day and night there D4: Granada. Visit the Alhambra (Nasrid Palaces tour at 5 PM) and spend the night D5: Head to Ronda (2.5-hour drive) and spend the night D6: White Villages and overnight in Ronda D7: Head straight to the Costa del Sol (e.g., Estepona), spend the day and night there D8: Return to Malaga to catch our flight
There you go! This itinerary takes into account that we’d like to do a circuit starting from Seville in a few years. That said, it’d be a shame to miss something doable from Malaga.
Questions: Since the Alhambra visit is only at 5 PM, and we’d already have the day to explore Granada, would arriving the day before be a mistake? Or should we skip this day and dedicate it elsewhere (Costa del Sol? Head toward Tabernas?)? The old town appeals to me, but maybe the Sacromonte neighborhood isn’t essential... Same question for Ronda: should we dedicate a full day to it, or combine Ronda and the White Villages in one day? Note that we love wandering around villages outside, so that might answer my question! :)
Final question: Is it better to rent the car at Malaga Airport or in the city? If we rent at the airport, we’d need a hotel with parking, which doesn’t seem easy. Or stay outside the city and park for free near the center if possible? I’ve read comments about taking a taxi to Malaga and then picking up the rental car at the airport the next morning. The taxi would really need to be affordable...
Thanks so much for your feedback and suggestions for visits during this little circuit. Have a great day, everyone! Christine
D1: Arrival at 9 AM in Malaga, day in Malaga and overnight stay D2: Head straight to Nerja (1-hour drive) and spend the night there D3: Head straight to Granada (1.5-hour drive), spend the day and night there D4: Granada. Visit the Alhambra (Nasrid Palaces tour at 5 PM) and spend the night D5: Head to Ronda (2.5-hour drive) and spend the night D6: White Villages and overnight in Ronda D7: Head straight to the Costa del Sol (e.g., Estepona), spend the day and night there D8: Return to Malaga to catch our flight
There you go! This itinerary takes into account that we’d like to do a circuit starting from Seville in a few years. That said, it’d be a shame to miss something doable from Malaga.
Questions: Since the Alhambra visit is only at 5 PM, and we’d already have the day to explore Granada, would arriving the day before be a mistake? Or should we skip this day and dedicate it elsewhere (Costa del Sol? Head toward Tabernas?)? The old town appeals to me, but maybe the Sacromonte neighborhood isn’t essential... Same question for Ronda: should we dedicate a full day to it, or combine Ronda and the White Villages in one day? Note that we love wandering around villages outside, so that might answer my question! :)
Final question: Is it better to rent the car at Malaga Airport or in the city? If we rent at the airport, we’d need a hotel with parking, which doesn’t seem easy. Or stay outside the city and park for free near the center if possible? I’ve read comments about taking a taxi to Malaga and then picking up the rental car at the airport the next morning. The taxi would really need to be affordable...
Thanks so much for your feedback and suggestions for visits during this little circuit. Have a great day, everyone! Christine
Review of an expedition cruise to the Seychelles with Ponant from January 25 to February 2, 2026
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.
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.
1 month in northern Laos (Oct 23 to Nov 24, 2025)
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.
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.
Mamoudzou, Mayotte - December 2025
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!
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!
Trip to Thailand and Laos
Hello! 🙂
January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
January 2026 Here we go again for new adventures and the pleasure of sharing them with you here! First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who helped me with the preparations, even with some last-minute improvisations just days before departure. Thanks to Montagnard74, Jojoone1, Songsam, Attila, Dennis2, NadegerFERM, and the authors whose travel journals about Laos inspired me (Montagnard74, Muriel18, Mavietongs...).
In this story, written by Richard and illustrated by me, we’ll tell you about the journey of four friends: Catherine, Richard, Nathalie, and Bruno. A reinvented but overall successful trip, filled with discoveries and surprises, the scents of spices and frangipani flowers, (too) spicy food, sunsets, and... one big mess.
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NAMASTE NEPAL! PRACTICAL INFO AND EXPERIENCE FEEDBACK
Stay from March 25 to April 16, 2025
· Flight tickets Air India (via Delhi) (via Skyscanner) = 1130 € per person · Planned budget (and respected without too many restrictions and while buying a few small gifts) = 2000 € for the stay for two. Buses, taxis, and entrance fees to various sites represent a budget to consider. Meals are cheap. Drinks like beer/Coke, however, are not cheap and cost the equivalent of a meal. · Exchange rate of the rupee during our stay = 0.0064 € (the exchange rate is almost identical everywhere, including at the airport). · At the airport, purchase of two SIM cards (phone) = 1000 NPR x 2 for 28 days. · Kathmandu: we had booked the hotel upon arrival: Kathmandu Boutique Hotel (+977 015 357 446 – email: booking@kathmanduboutiquehotel.com), very well located in a quiet alley off the street, south of Thamel, a 10-minute walk from Durbar Square. A hotel like Nepal knows how to do, where tall people will have to duck. Night + breakfast = 18 € for two. Very warm welcome, great location, excellent value for money. · Bhaktapur: we had also booked a hotel for the end of our stay because the chance of the year 2025 made the Nepali New Year and Bisket Jatra particularly festive in Bhaktapur: Manju Baha Hotel School (+977 976 7234014 – email: manjubahahotel@gmail.com) located in an old monastery. "A social enterprise transforming an old monastery into a charming hotel, offering professional hospitality training to underprivileged Nepali youth." Night + breakfast = 32 € for two. Beautifully decorated room. Very warm welcome. Don’t miss the Changunarayan site (near Bhaktapur), it’s amazing. And if you’re lucky enough to be in Bhaktapur in mid-April for 3 days, there’s the Bisket Jatra festivities (Newari festival), joyful, noisy, fun, and wild… · Pokhara (hotel recommended by the Kathmandu hotel): Hotel Green Tara, Lakeside, 10th street, set back, quiet (Tel. +977 61 462698 – email: greentara_67@hotmail.com) · Trek permit (Lower Mustang, no need for an agency or guide, permits checked at Ghasa and Jomsom) = 2000 NPR per person (2 ID photos) · Bus Kathmandu/Pokhara and return = 2000 NPR per person · Bus Pokhara/Jomsom, 2 one-way tickets = 2800 NPR. · Taxi: negotiation with a driver we recommend, Vicky (+977 984 075 599). You explain what you want, negotiate the price, and he waits for you during the visit. Very charming, we used him several times. For example: departure from our hotel at 10 AM -> Boudhanath/Pashupatinath/Patan return at 5 PM to the hotel = 6500 NPR – Swayambhunath (round trip) = 1200 NPR · Site prices: https://ntb.gov.np/plan-your-trip/before-you-come/heritage-site-entry-fees o Visitor Pass for Kathmandu Durbar Square (for the duration of the stay, show your visa) = 1000 NPR per person (1 ID photo) o Bhaktapur Durbar Square (old town) = 1800 NPR per person o Patan = 1000 NPR per person o Swayambhu Stupa = 200 NPR per person o Boudha Stupa = 200 NPR per person o Pashupatinath Temple = 1000 NPR per person (interesting to take a guide) o Changunarayan Temple (6 km north of Bhaktapur) = 400 NPR per person o Mountain Museum in Pokhara = 750 NPR per person · E-cigarettes: e-cigarettes are banned in India and confiscated whether they’re in carry-on or checked luggage. On the way there, we had kept them in our carry-on, they were confiscated in Delhi. On the way back, learning from our previous experience, we put them in our checked luggage. Someone came to get us to take them out of our bags and confiscate them… You can find e-cigarettes and products in Kathmandu.
* * *
I’m 74 years old. I went to Nepal in 1982, 1983, and the last time in 1986. I wanted to introduce this beautiful and endearing country to my husband, and it was… now or never. So we decided it was now.
I knew the trek starting from Pokhara: Naudanda/Birethanti/Ghorepani/Tatopani/Kalopani. There was no way I was going to do that trek, especially the 1000-meter staircase to reach Ghorepani… You have to stay humble with age.
Back then, the road didn’t exist. I didn’t consider, with the construction of this road (NH48) along the western bank of the Kali Gandaki, doing a trek along a windy and dusty road. Was there an alternative hiking trail on the eastern bank? No one answered my question on VoyageForum, so I did my research online. And I found this site: "Andrées de Ruiter and Prem Rai - Trekking the Annapurna Circuit, including the new NATT trails that avoid the road - A guide to one of the most beautiful trekking regions in Nepal and the world (2011) - NATT = New Annapurna Trekking Trail".
Phew! A solution was emerging. This circuit from 2011 wasn’t fully marked. The idea was to go from Jomsom to Tatopani, so we needed to make sure the path was well-marked all the way, which we did, and the path exists, marked in red and white!
So, with the walking times information, we built our 8-day circuit:
· Jomsom/Thinigaon · Thinigaon/Chimang · Chimang/Saura · Saura/Kokhetanti · Rest day or, if in good shape: loop to Sekong Lake · Kokhetanti/Jhipra Deurali · Jhipra Deurali/Kopchepani · Kopchepani/Tatopani
It’s a senior trek, after all. So the walking times noted on the sites indicated 3 hours or even 4 hours for the two longest stages. That pace suited us fine.
On March 29, we left Kathmandu (1400m), after visiting the must-see sites, by bus to Pokhara: 200 km and 8.5 hours on a chaotic road under construction. I had a memory of Pokhara where it was the first city where you could see the Himalayan range, especially Machhapuchhare. But the pollution is such, the dust raised by traffic and construction, that no horizon is visible except the first hills around Pokhara.
We stayed 24 hours in Pokhara (820m), and on March 31, we left our luggage at the hotel and set off with our lightest backpacks: change of clothes, toiletries, first aid kit, anti-chafing cream, water bottle, sleeping bag liner, and light shoes for the stages.
We took the bus to Jomsom: 160 km/7.5 hours including stops for bathroom breaks, tea, and lunch. The road is nothing but a chaos of potholes, landslides, construction, dust, rebuilding, and mudslides. In Ghasa, the bus stops, and we’re told we’re at a checkpoint and that the two foreigners in the bus, my husband and I, need to have our permits checked, which takes a few minutes. The driving is rock-and-roll, surprising, and courteous. The drivers have their codes, and on these improbable roads, they’re virtuosos.
We could have chosen the plane, but several reasons dissuaded us: if there’s too much wind, the planes don’t take off; personally, I wasn’t reassured about landing in Jomsom, and this transport has a cost.
We arrived around 2 PM in Jomsom (2720m), and despite the early wake-up, the nearly 8 hours on the bus, and the altitude, we decided to head straight to Thinigaon (2840m). At the Jomsom checkpoint, they told us it was a 30-minute walk. Great! Except we took an hour and a half on an uphill road, bent over to fight a strong wind. But the Himalayan range is there! The Dhaulagiri, the Nilgiri, the Annapurnas as a reward.
In Thinigaon, we found a room at the "Nilgiri View Hotel" run by a didi (big sister in Nepali). From the lodge’s roof, she proudly showed us the different peaks surrounding the village and told us, worried, that it hadn’t snowed here for 3 years. She said there are very few tourists, that the season is rather in September/October/November. It seems there’s not a soul in this village, yet mules pass through the narrow street paved with large flat stones, their bells ringing. We dine at 6 PM and go to bed… Room = 1200 NPR and dinner, breakfast, and drinks = 2560 NPR.
On April 1, we set off at 9 AM, not for Chimang as planned but for Marpha! The didi from the Thinigaon lodge had said it was a 3-hour walk. The first part of this stage is attractive, the mountains are magnificent and imposing, the landscape is superb, there’s no one around, a feeling of being "alone in the world." We follow Dhumbra Tal, this small green lake. The path is a rocky track that climbs steeply. Then, around a hill, we start the big descent that joins the Kali Gandaki. We face the wind head-on, and the violent gusts take our breath away, throw us off balance, and envelop us in dust. We see the road on the other side of the Kali Gandaki. We arrive in the village of Chhairo at 2 PM, completely exhausted and with blistered feet, after 5 hours of walking instead of the planned 3.5 hours.
We’re welcomed by the village nurse, who tells us there’s a lodge in the village. Chhairo is a Tibetan village, a 20-minute walk from Marpha (according to the locals, multiply by 2 or even 3 for us…). We’re going to revise our trek plan and, first of all, spend the night in Chhairo.
The lodge is quite pleasant, and Karma, the hostess, is very friendly. She asks about our plans and suggests we stay in Chhairo the next day, from where we can visit Marpha and also Chimang, a 1-hour walk away, in light mode, meaning without backpacks. She invites us to participate in a village ceremony the next evening.
We immediately accept the proposal, as our feet need rest and the welcome is so warm… Dinner and bed!
We reworked our trek plan, which was too ambitious for our untrained bodies and, let’s face it… no longer in our first youth. In the initial plan, we thought there wouldn’t be too much elevation gain following the Kali Gandaki, but checking the map, we realize there might be significant elevation changes between Sauru and Sirkung. So we plan:
· Tomorrow: visit Marpha (2670m) and Chimang (2744m) · April 3: bus from Chhairo (2700m) to Kalopani (2530m) and continue on foot to Ghasa (2010m) · April 4: Ghasa/Pairataplo (1940m) · April 5: Pairatapla/Gadpar (1580m) · April 6: Gadpar/Narchyang (1510m) · April 7: Narchyang/Tatopani (1190m) · April 8: return to Pokhara.
Normally, it’s all downhill…
April 2, a rest day then… We set off in the morning to explore Marpha. We have to take a temporary bridge because the suspension bridge is closed due to road construction. We join the road and arrive in Marpha, a village famous for its apple orchards, brandy, cider, and apple juice production. This village is magnificent with its stone houses and monastery clinging to the hillside. The road construction spared it. There are people, but very few Western tourists.
We have lunch in Marpha and go back through Chhairo to take the path to Chimang. We cross a fragrant pine forest and find the rocky path; the landscape is splendid. We walk quietly, passing peaceful buffaloes and cows, and arrive at the foot of a stone staircase… 275 steps (which we counted on the way back) leading us to the village of Chimang. Chimang is an isolated Newari village that seems a bit desolate. Despite the slopes, there are crops on every little bit of land. Thankfully, we changed our initial program because there’s no lodge in this village, contrary to what we saw on a map… We wander through the village, which seems very deserted, have coffee in a house from another world, and then head back to Chhairo.
A rest day? = 5 hours of walking!!
Dinner and village ceremony. From what we understand, this ceremony is in honor of the Dalai Lama. Men, women, and children in traditional costumes gather twice a month; they dance, make, and offer small sweet cakes with Tibetan tea (made from tea, yak butter—often rancid—water, and salt). Surprising for first-timers…
Around 10 PM, we leave the ceremony; tomorrow morning, we need to be on the roadside by 7 AM to catch the bus to Kalopani…
This village of Chhairo is very pleasant and welcoming, no tourists, just two motorcyclists who arrived in the evening, one of whom participated in the ceremony and discreetly poured his Tibetan tea outside.
Lodge: "Norsang Tibetan Guesthouse and Restaurant". Total bill for 2 nights, 2 dinners, 2 breakfasts, and drinks = 8000 NPR.
April 3: bus from Chhairo to Kalopani, about 1.5 hours for the 20 km (200 NPR per person). We descend on the right bank of the Kali Gandaki. We find the red and white markings to resume the trek toward Ghasa. We’re in a fragrant pine forest, the Dhaulagiri on one side and the Annapurnas on the other, magnificent, and the path is pleasant and easy. We get a bit lost in this forest, always looking for the markings. Near Lete, two trekkers pass us, and we meet them again a little further on with two very young children, to whom we give the 2 hard-boiled eggs I didn’t eat this morning. They accepted them without hesitation.
We arrive in a village and ask for directions to Ghasa. The young girls point the way. But we come across a forest being logged, trees cut in all directions. We turn back and ask for confirmation. They confirm… But the two young girls catch up with us and clear the way. We have to step over, go around, and cross the felled trees, with no indication at all. Through this pick-up sticks of felled trees, the girls lead us to the top of a stone staircase, indicating that was the path. It’s the only place where we saw rhododendrons in bloom.
We descend the staircase. At the bottom, to the left, there’s a bridge to go toward Choyo, and to the right, a path to Ghasa. We take the right path and join the road. We should normally find the red and white markings, but we don’t… So we continue on the western bank road of the Kali Gandaki.
A little before the village of Misi, we see fumaroles on the opposite bank that seem to come from the ground. We don’t understand. We stopped to eat in the village of Misi (noodle soup = 600 NPR), but it’s hard to communicate with the elderly people running the guesthouse.
We continued on the road, not finding the marked path parallel to the road. Landslides, both on the left and right banks, seem to have taken over the marked routes. It’s a place where the Kali Gandaki gorge narrows, and on the opposite bank, the mountain smokes more and more, and we now hear the crackling of fire. Across from us, the mountain is burning… Our initial plan had us passing on that burning bank right now…
We arrive in Ghasa at 3:30 PM, a 6.5-hour stage but with a 1-hour stop at noon. We’re at the "Florida Guesthouse and Restaurant." From our room, we see the mountain smoking on the other side of the river, and at night, we see the flames. In this village, posters show Himalayan eagles and vultures that seem to be protected species. Indeed, we saw (and heard) 3 eagles circling today.
April 4 – Today, heading to Pairothapla or Kopchepani depending on our feet, accommodation options, and simply our desires.
No more smoke on the mountain this morning. It’s chilly, 7:45 AM, the sky is clear, just a smell of smoke outside.
Price of the lodge = 1000 NPR for the night + 3580 NPR for meals.
We cross Ghasa, which stretches over more than a kilometer. We have a drink at the last guesthouse in the village, and the didi, when she learns our destination, tells us to be careful because the villages we’re going to aren’t safe. Should we distribute our rupees in different pockets? Nah, we kept going.
At the exit of Ghasa, we find the red and white markings and take the suspension bridge to cross the boiling waters of the Kali Gandaki. The passage is impressive because the river is tumultuous. Lots of climbs and even more descents. We’re back on the eastern bank. It’s hot! On the narrow path, we meet a group of buffaloes. Who has the right of way? We decide to stick as close as possible to the rock wall and move forward calmly. The buffaloes look at us, chewing placidly, with no intention of jumping on us. Phew!
After a 5-hour stage (including stops), we arrive in Pairothapla, with hot feet and firm thighs, and decide we won’t go any further. It’s a good thing because there’s a lodge, the most basic so far, but with a great welcome. We have a meal and a short nap. The buffaloes we met on the way belong to this house. They come to drink at the fountain by the path.
Our host, very pleasant, doesn’t know what to do to please us and is very attentive. He wants to chat. He has two children, a 4-year-old girl and a 7-year-old boy. Where do they go to school? Do they go? He tells us that the fires in the mountain are caused by people, but for what reason? We won’t find out, but it’s illegal. From here, we can still see smoke rising in the distance. The wife is a bit less friendly. Corn kernels dry on a woven straw mat on the ground, and the mom sorts them.
From where we are, we overlook the valley and see the road under construction winding along the mountainside on the other bank.
Dinner on the terrace of the house overlooking the path, windbreaker and fleece on: dal bhat chicken for me and chicken curry for my husband: "organic" products, at least local production. There are small vegetable gardens everywhere with all sorts of vegetables.
April 5 – While we’re having breakfast on the terrace of our lodge, 5 porters, straps on their foreheads, heavily loaded, pass by on the path. A few minutes later, a group of 9 people appears. It must be said that since the beginning of our journey, we’ve met very few hikers. Two backpackers in Chhairo, the two hikers near Lete, two female hikers passed us before Pairothapla, a solo female hiker passed us…
The lodge in Pairothapla is called "Bimala Lodge & Thakali Kitchen" – Price for night + 4 meals + 2 breakfasts = 3000 NPR.
The descent toward the Kali Gandaki involves climbs whose steps we didn’t count. Clearly, the landslides on the mountain cause changes to the official ACAP trek marked in red and white, and the marking updates can’t keep up with the pace of these landslides. It’s almost always by chance that we find the markings. Fortunately, we can follow the power line that guides us somewhat.
Drink stop in Kopchepani, the legs are fine, but the feet don’t like being tightly enclosed. A group of trekkers with porters passes on the path. We met buffaloes that we kindly let pass; the path was wide enough, but it was a staircase going up, and we didn’t want to take any risks.
Across, a view of the magnificent Rupse Waterfall on the other bank of the Kali Gandaki, at the bottom, lots of vehicles and people.
Arrival in Gadpar after crossing a rather unwelcoming small village and cultivated gardens between dry stone walls, each better built than the last.
First lodge spotted, first lodge adopted to answer the call of our feet, and a very warm welcome from the owner. Since we hadn’t eaten at noon, we had Tibetan bread/jam. 6-hour stage including 1 hour of stops. Night + dinner + breakfast + drinks = 5060 NPR
April 6 – Today, heading to Narchyang.
For several days, we’ve seen banana trees with their bunches of fruit and even a prickly pear with large fruits ripening.
This stage is quite peaceful and pleasant. We take a suspension bridge to cross a tributary of the Kali Gandaki. While we’re resting for a moment before crossing the bridge, a couple of porters, a man and a woman, arrive and start across the bridge with their wood load in a basket held by a strap on their forehead, making them bend. We set off too… lighter than them.
On the other side of the bridge… a stone staircase, and it climbs steeply. The porter couple didn’t take this staircase; they went right on the path.
At the top of the staircase, we arrive in Narchyang after a 4-hour stage. A magnificent waterfall overlooks the village. We get lost in this fairly large village looking for a lodge. After wandering around for a while, we ask for directions, and an 84-year-old man takes us through the whole village and accompanies us to a very nice lodge run by a woman.
We chat with our hostess, who asks where we’re from and where we’re going. We explain that we want to reach Tatopani the next day and then return to Pokhara. She tells us there are 4x4s going directly to Pokhara and that it would probably be easier than taking a bus that might be full in Tatopani. After a quick consultation, we decide to return to Pokhara the next day by 4x4. She finds us a 4x4 with 2 seats left, departure at 8 AM – 5 hours on the road and 1500 NPR per person. A charming didi who does everything to be pleasant and helpful.
Narchyang community lodge = night + snacks + dinner + breakfast = 3000 NPR.
There you go, our trek ends tomorrow. Many necessary changes and adaptations to our initial trek, but no regrets, it was superb and a great experience that, for my part, I won’t be able to repeat. Always this encounter with the endearing, welcoming, curious, and very kind Nepali people. It was now or never, and we did it!
* * *
In conclusion, 3 full weeks in Nepal is a duration that allows visiting Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur, enjoying the various sites, and soaking in the atmosphere and urban Nepali life.
The trek, even revised and corrected, allowed us to get close to the impressive Annapurna and Dhaulagiri peaks. One or two acclimatization days might be necessary to get the body in tune with this magical and extraordinary land.
Stay from March 25 to April 16, 2025
· Flight tickets Air India (via Delhi) (via Skyscanner) = 1130 € per person · Planned budget (and respected without too many restrictions and while buying a few small gifts) = 2000 € for the stay for two. Buses, taxis, and entrance fees to various sites represent a budget to consider. Meals are cheap. Drinks like beer/Coke, however, are not cheap and cost the equivalent of a meal. · Exchange rate of the rupee during our stay = 0.0064 € (the exchange rate is almost identical everywhere, including at the airport). · At the airport, purchase of two SIM cards (phone) = 1000 NPR x 2 for 28 days. · Kathmandu: we had booked the hotel upon arrival: Kathmandu Boutique Hotel (+977 015 357 446 – email: booking@kathmanduboutiquehotel.com), very well located in a quiet alley off the street, south of Thamel, a 10-minute walk from Durbar Square. A hotel like Nepal knows how to do, where tall people will have to duck. Night + breakfast = 18 € for two. Very warm welcome, great location, excellent value for money. · Bhaktapur: we had also booked a hotel for the end of our stay because the chance of the year 2025 made the Nepali New Year and Bisket Jatra particularly festive in Bhaktapur: Manju Baha Hotel School (+977 976 7234014 – email: manjubahahotel@gmail.com) located in an old monastery. "A social enterprise transforming an old monastery into a charming hotel, offering professional hospitality training to underprivileged Nepali youth." Night + breakfast = 32 € for two. Beautifully decorated room. Very warm welcome. Don’t miss the Changunarayan site (near Bhaktapur), it’s amazing. And if you’re lucky enough to be in Bhaktapur in mid-April for 3 days, there’s the Bisket Jatra festivities (Newari festival), joyful, noisy, fun, and wild… · Pokhara (hotel recommended by the Kathmandu hotel): Hotel Green Tara, Lakeside, 10th street, set back, quiet (Tel. +977 61 462698 – email: greentara_67@hotmail.com) · Trek permit (Lower Mustang, no need for an agency or guide, permits checked at Ghasa and Jomsom) = 2000 NPR per person (2 ID photos) · Bus Kathmandu/Pokhara and return = 2000 NPR per person · Bus Pokhara/Jomsom, 2 one-way tickets = 2800 NPR. · Taxi: negotiation with a driver we recommend, Vicky (+977 984 075 599). You explain what you want, negotiate the price, and he waits for you during the visit. Very charming, we used him several times. For example: departure from our hotel at 10 AM -> Boudhanath/Pashupatinath/Patan return at 5 PM to the hotel = 6500 NPR – Swayambhunath (round trip) = 1200 NPR · Site prices: https://ntb.gov.np/plan-your-trip/before-you-come/heritage-site-entry-fees o Visitor Pass for Kathmandu Durbar Square (for the duration of the stay, show your visa) = 1000 NPR per person (1 ID photo) o Bhaktapur Durbar Square (old town) = 1800 NPR per person o Patan = 1000 NPR per person o Swayambhu Stupa = 200 NPR per person o Boudha Stupa = 200 NPR per person o Pashupatinath Temple = 1000 NPR per person (interesting to take a guide) o Changunarayan Temple (6 km north of Bhaktapur) = 400 NPR per person o Mountain Museum in Pokhara = 750 NPR per person · E-cigarettes: e-cigarettes are banned in India and confiscated whether they’re in carry-on or checked luggage. On the way there, we had kept them in our carry-on, they were confiscated in Delhi. On the way back, learning from our previous experience, we put them in our checked luggage. Someone came to get us to take them out of our bags and confiscate them… You can find e-cigarettes and products in Kathmandu.
* * *
I’m 74 years old. I went to Nepal in 1982, 1983, and the last time in 1986. I wanted to introduce this beautiful and endearing country to my husband, and it was… now or never. So we decided it was now.
I knew the trek starting from Pokhara: Naudanda/Birethanti/Ghorepani/Tatopani/Kalopani. There was no way I was going to do that trek, especially the 1000-meter staircase to reach Ghorepani… You have to stay humble with age.
Back then, the road didn’t exist. I didn’t consider, with the construction of this road (NH48) along the western bank of the Kali Gandaki, doing a trek along a windy and dusty road. Was there an alternative hiking trail on the eastern bank? No one answered my question on VoyageForum, so I did my research online. And I found this site: "Andrées de Ruiter and Prem Rai - Trekking the Annapurna Circuit, including the new NATT trails that avoid the road - A guide to one of the most beautiful trekking regions in Nepal and the world (2011) - NATT = New Annapurna Trekking Trail".
Phew! A solution was emerging. This circuit from 2011 wasn’t fully marked. The idea was to go from Jomsom to Tatopani, so we needed to make sure the path was well-marked all the way, which we did, and the path exists, marked in red and white!
So, with the walking times information, we built our 8-day circuit:
· Jomsom/Thinigaon · Thinigaon/Chimang · Chimang/Saura · Saura/Kokhetanti · Rest day or, if in good shape: loop to Sekong Lake · Kokhetanti/Jhipra Deurali · Jhipra Deurali/Kopchepani · Kopchepani/Tatopani
It’s a senior trek, after all. So the walking times noted on the sites indicated 3 hours or even 4 hours for the two longest stages. That pace suited us fine.
On March 29, we left Kathmandu (1400m), after visiting the must-see sites, by bus to Pokhara: 200 km and 8.5 hours on a chaotic road under construction. I had a memory of Pokhara where it was the first city where you could see the Himalayan range, especially Machhapuchhare. But the pollution is such, the dust raised by traffic and construction, that no horizon is visible except the first hills around Pokhara.
We stayed 24 hours in Pokhara (820m), and on March 31, we left our luggage at the hotel and set off with our lightest backpacks: change of clothes, toiletries, first aid kit, anti-chafing cream, water bottle, sleeping bag liner, and light shoes for the stages.
We took the bus to Jomsom: 160 km/7.5 hours including stops for bathroom breaks, tea, and lunch. The road is nothing but a chaos of potholes, landslides, construction, dust, rebuilding, and mudslides. In Ghasa, the bus stops, and we’re told we’re at a checkpoint and that the two foreigners in the bus, my husband and I, need to have our permits checked, which takes a few minutes. The driving is rock-and-roll, surprising, and courteous. The drivers have their codes, and on these improbable roads, they’re virtuosos.
We could have chosen the plane, but several reasons dissuaded us: if there’s too much wind, the planes don’t take off; personally, I wasn’t reassured about landing in Jomsom, and this transport has a cost.
We arrived around 2 PM in Jomsom (2720m), and despite the early wake-up, the nearly 8 hours on the bus, and the altitude, we decided to head straight to Thinigaon (2840m). At the Jomsom checkpoint, they told us it was a 30-minute walk. Great! Except we took an hour and a half on an uphill road, bent over to fight a strong wind. But the Himalayan range is there! The Dhaulagiri, the Nilgiri, the Annapurnas as a reward.
In Thinigaon, we found a room at the "Nilgiri View Hotel" run by a didi (big sister in Nepali). From the lodge’s roof, she proudly showed us the different peaks surrounding the village and told us, worried, that it hadn’t snowed here for 3 years. She said there are very few tourists, that the season is rather in September/October/November. It seems there’s not a soul in this village, yet mules pass through the narrow street paved with large flat stones, their bells ringing. We dine at 6 PM and go to bed… Room = 1200 NPR and dinner, breakfast, and drinks = 2560 NPR.
On April 1, we set off at 9 AM, not for Chimang as planned but for Marpha! The didi from the Thinigaon lodge had said it was a 3-hour walk. The first part of this stage is attractive, the mountains are magnificent and imposing, the landscape is superb, there’s no one around, a feeling of being "alone in the world." We follow Dhumbra Tal, this small green lake. The path is a rocky track that climbs steeply. Then, around a hill, we start the big descent that joins the Kali Gandaki. We face the wind head-on, and the violent gusts take our breath away, throw us off balance, and envelop us in dust. We see the road on the other side of the Kali Gandaki. We arrive in the village of Chhairo at 2 PM, completely exhausted and with blistered feet, after 5 hours of walking instead of the planned 3.5 hours.
We’re welcomed by the village nurse, who tells us there’s a lodge in the village. Chhairo is a Tibetan village, a 20-minute walk from Marpha (according to the locals, multiply by 2 or even 3 for us…). We’re going to revise our trek plan and, first of all, spend the night in Chhairo.
The lodge is quite pleasant, and Karma, the hostess, is very friendly. She asks about our plans and suggests we stay in Chhairo the next day, from where we can visit Marpha and also Chimang, a 1-hour walk away, in light mode, meaning without backpacks. She invites us to participate in a village ceremony the next evening.
We immediately accept the proposal, as our feet need rest and the welcome is so warm… Dinner and bed!
We reworked our trek plan, which was too ambitious for our untrained bodies and, let’s face it… no longer in our first youth. In the initial plan, we thought there wouldn’t be too much elevation gain following the Kali Gandaki, but checking the map, we realize there might be significant elevation changes between Sauru and Sirkung. So we plan:
· Tomorrow: visit Marpha (2670m) and Chimang (2744m) · April 3: bus from Chhairo (2700m) to Kalopani (2530m) and continue on foot to Ghasa (2010m) · April 4: Ghasa/Pairataplo (1940m) · April 5: Pairatapla/Gadpar (1580m) · April 6: Gadpar/Narchyang (1510m) · April 7: Narchyang/Tatopani (1190m) · April 8: return to Pokhara.
Normally, it’s all downhill…
April 2, a rest day then… We set off in the morning to explore Marpha. We have to take a temporary bridge because the suspension bridge is closed due to road construction. We join the road and arrive in Marpha, a village famous for its apple orchards, brandy, cider, and apple juice production. This village is magnificent with its stone houses and monastery clinging to the hillside. The road construction spared it. There are people, but very few Western tourists.
We have lunch in Marpha and go back through Chhairo to take the path to Chimang. We cross a fragrant pine forest and find the rocky path; the landscape is splendid. We walk quietly, passing peaceful buffaloes and cows, and arrive at the foot of a stone staircase… 275 steps (which we counted on the way back) leading us to the village of Chimang. Chimang is an isolated Newari village that seems a bit desolate. Despite the slopes, there are crops on every little bit of land. Thankfully, we changed our initial program because there’s no lodge in this village, contrary to what we saw on a map… We wander through the village, which seems very deserted, have coffee in a house from another world, and then head back to Chhairo.
A rest day? = 5 hours of walking!!
Dinner and village ceremony. From what we understand, this ceremony is in honor of the Dalai Lama. Men, women, and children in traditional costumes gather twice a month; they dance, make, and offer small sweet cakes with Tibetan tea (made from tea, yak butter—often rancid—water, and salt). Surprising for first-timers…
Around 10 PM, we leave the ceremony; tomorrow morning, we need to be on the roadside by 7 AM to catch the bus to Kalopani…
This village of Chhairo is very pleasant and welcoming, no tourists, just two motorcyclists who arrived in the evening, one of whom participated in the ceremony and discreetly poured his Tibetan tea outside.
Lodge: "Norsang Tibetan Guesthouse and Restaurant". Total bill for 2 nights, 2 dinners, 2 breakfasts, and drinks = 8000 NPR.
April 3: bus from Chhairo to Kalopani, about 1.5 hours for the 20 km (200 NPR per person). We descend on the right bank of the Kali Gandaki. We find the red and white markings to resume the trek toward Ghasa. We’re in a fragrant pine forest, the Dhaulagiri on one side and the Annapurnas on the other, magnificent, and the path is pleasant and easy. We get a bit lost in this forest, always looking for the markings. Near Lete, two trekkers pass us, and we meet them again a little further on with two very young children, to whom we give the 2 hard-boiled eggs I didn’t eat this morning. They accepted them without hesitation.
We arrive in a village and ask for directions to Ghasa. The young girls point the way. But we come across a forest being logged, trees cut in all directions. We turn back and ask for confirmation. They confirm… But the two young girls catch up with us and clear the way. We have to step over, go around, and cross the felled trees, with no indication at all. Through this pick-up sticks of felled trees, the girls lead us to the top of a stone staircase, indicating that was the path. It’s the only place where we saw rhododendrons in bloom.
We descend the staircase. At the bottom, to the left, there’s a bridge to go toward Choyo, and to the right, a path to Ghasa. We take the right path and join the road. We should normally find the red and white markings, but we don’t… So we continue on the western bank road of the Kali Gandaki.
A little before the village of Misi, we see fumaroles on the opposite bank that seem to come from the ground. We don’t understand. We stopped to eat in the village of Misi (noodle soup = 600 NPR), but it’s hard to communicate with the elderly people running the guesthouse.
We continued on the road, not finding the marked path parallel to the road. Landslides, both on the left and right banks, seem to have taken over the marked routes. It’s a place where the Kali Gandaki gorge narrows, and on the opposite bank, the mountain smokes more and more, and we now hear the crackling of fire. Across from us, the mountain is burning… Our initial plan had us passing on that burning bank right now…
We arrive in Ghasa at 3:30 PM, a 6.5-hour stage but with a 1-hour stop at noon. We’re at the "Florida Guesthouse and Restaurant." From our room, we see the mountain smoking on the other side of the river, and at night, we see the flames. In this village, posters show Himalayan eagles and vultures that seem to be protected species. Indeed, we saw (and heard) 3 eagles circling today.
April 4 – Today, heading to Pairothapla or Kopchepani depending on our feet, accommodation options, and simply our desires.
No more smoke on the mountain this morning. It’s chilly, 7:45 AM, the sky is clear, just a smell of smoke outside.
Price of the lodge = 1000 NPR for the night + 3580 NPR for meals.
We cross Ghasa, which stretches over more than a kilometer. We have a drink at the last guesthouse in the village, and the didi, when she learns our destination, tells us to be careful because the villages we’re going to aren’t safe. Should we distribute our rupees in different pockets? Nah, we kept going.
At the exit of Ghasa, we find the red and white markings and take the suspension bridge to cross the boiling waters of the Kali Gandaki. The passage is impressive because the river is tumultuous. Lots of climbs and even more descents. We’re back on the eastern bank. It’s hot! On the narrow path, we meet a group of buffaloes. Who has the right of way? We decide to stick as close as possible to the rock wall and move forward calmly. The buffaloes look at us, chewing placidly, with no intention of jumping on us. Phew!
After a 5-hour stage (including stops), we arrive in Pairothapla, with hot feet and firm thighs, and decide we won’t go any further. It’s a good thing because there’s a lodge, the most basic so far, but with a great welcome. We have a meal and a short nap. The buffaloes we met on the way belong to this house. They come to drink at the fountain by the path.
Our host, very pleasant, doesn’t know what to do to please us and is very attentive. He wants to chat. He has two children, a 4-year-old girl and a 7-year-old boy. Where do they go to school? Do they go? He tells us that the fires in the mountain are caused by people, but for what reason? We won’t find out, but it’s illegal. From here, we can still see smoke rising in the distance. The wife is a bit less friendly. Corn kernels dry on a woven straw mat on the ground, and the mom sorts them.
From where we are, we overlook the valley and see the road under construction winding along the mountainside on the other bank.
Dinner on the terrace of the house overlooking the path, windbreaker and fleece on: dal bhat chicken for me and chicken curry for my husband: "organic" products, at least local production. There are small vegetable gardens everywhere with all sorts of vegetables.
April 5 – While we’re having breakfast on the terrace of our lodge, 5 porters, straps on their foreheads, heavily loaded, pass by on the path. A few minutes later, a group of 9 people appears. It must be said that since the beginning of our journey, we’ve met very few hikers. Two backpackers in Chhairo, the two hikers near Lete, two female hikers passed us before Pairothapla, a solo female hiker passed us…
The lodge in Pairothapla is called "Bimala Lodge & Thakali Kitchen" – Price for night + 4 meals + 2 breakfasts = 3000 NPR.
The descent toward the Kali Gandaki involves climbs whose steps we didn’t count. Clearly, the landslides on the mountain cause changes to the official ACAP trek marked in red and white, and the marking updates can’t keep up with the pace of these landslides. It’s almost always by chance that we find the markings. Fortunately, we can follow the power line that guides us somewhat.
Drink stop in Kopchepani, the legs are fine, but the feet don’t like being tightly enclosed. A group of trekkers with porters passes on the path. We met buffaloes that we kindly let pass; the path was wide enough, but it was a staircase going up, and we didn’t want to take any risks.
Across, a view of the magnificent Rupse Waterfall on the other bank of the Kali Gandaki, at the bottom, lots of vehicles and people.
Arrival in Gadpar after crossing a rather unwelcoming small village and cultivated gardens between dry stone walls, each better built than the last.
First lodge spotted, first lodge adopted to answer the call of our feet, and a very warm welcome from the owner. Since we hadn’t eaten at noon, we had Tibetan bread/jam. 6-hour stage including 1 hour of stops. Night + dinner + breakfast + drinks = 5060 NPR
April 6 – Today, heading to Narchyang.
For several days, we’ve seen banana trees with their bunches of fruit and even a prickly pear with large fruits ripening.
This stage is quite peaceful and pleasant. We take a suspension bridge to cross a tributary of the Kali Gandaki. While we’re resting for a moment before crossing the bridge, a couple of porters, a man and a woman, arrive and start across the bridge with their wood load in a basket held by a strap on their forehead, making them bend. We set off too… lighter than them.
On the other side of the bridge… a stone staircase, and it climbs steeply. The porter couple didn’t take this staircase; they went right on the path.
At the top of the staircase, we arrive in Narchyang after a 4-hour stage. A magnificent waterfall overlooks the village. We get lost in this fairly large village looking for a lodge. After wandering around for a while, we ask for directions, and an 84-year-old man takes us through the whole village and accompanies us to a very nice lodge run by a woman.
We chat with our hostess, who asks where we’re from and where we’re going. We explain that we want to reach Tatopani the next day and then return to Pokhara. She tells us there are 4x4s going directly to Pokhara and that it would probably be easier than taking a bus that might be full in Tatopani. After a quick consultation, we decide to return to Pokhara the next day by 4x4. She finds us a 4x4 with 2 seats left, departure at 8 AM – 5 hours on the road and 1500 NPR per person. A charming didi who does everything to be pleasant and helpful.
Narchyang community lodge = night + snacks + dinner + breakfast = 3000 NPR.
There you go, our trek ends tomorrow. Many necessary changes and adaptations to our initial trek, but no regrets, it was superb and a great experience that, for my part, I won’t be able to repeat. Always this encounter with the endearing, welcoming, curious, and very kind Nepali people. It was now or never, and we did it!
* * *
In conclusion, 3 full weeks in Nepal is a duration that allows visiting Kathmandu, Patan, and Bhaktapur, enjoying the various sites, and soaking in the atmosphere and urban Nepali life.
The trek, even revised and corrected, allowed us to get close to the impressive Annapurna and Dhaulagiri peaks. One or two acclimatization days might be necessary to get the body in tune with this magical and extraordinary land.
Veneto: Dolomites and Opera
I'm starting a new travel journal in Italy.
It's about a month-long trip (from September 3, 2025, to October 4, 2025), or rather a part of it. This section matches the title: an opera festival in Verona (one evening) and the Dolomites in the Veneto region.
I'm posting the part of the trip I think will interest French-speaking readers the most (since this is where I saw the most French travelers).
Here’s a quick summary:
- Trip in September 2025
- Solo travel with camping (caravan)
- Small geographic area: besides Verona, the surroundings of the Marmolada massif and Cortina d'Ampezzo.
- Main but not exclusive activity: hiking.
Since I have limited internet access where I am now, I’ll be writing slowly. Here we go!
Day 1: Thursday, September 4, 2025
I arrived in Veneto under the sun and with warm weather. I drove to Verona and tried to find a spot at the campsite (Verona Village) located south of the city. Unfortunately, it was full. Booking on the website was mandatory, but when I tried to reserve a few days ago, the site never moved from the "reservation" step to the "payment" step (I don’t know why—it’s always like that in these cases). I found another solution over the phone; the drive from southern Verona to the northeast was a bit long, but I finally settled at the "Oro Verde" campsite. It’s an "agricampeggio" (farm camping or rural campsite) on the outskirts of the city, and its name (green gold) suggests they produce olives there. Since it wasn’t late, I biked to the Adige River, following the recommended route into the city.
Since I have limited internet access where I am now, I’ll be writing slowly. Here we go!
Day 1: Thursday, September 4, 2025
I arrived in Veneto under the sun and with warm weather. I drove to Verona and tried to find a spot at the campsite (Verona Village) located south of the city. Unfortunately, it was full. Booking on the website was mandatory, but when I tried to reserve a few days ago, the site never moved from the "reservation" step to the "payment" step (I don’t know why—it’s always like that in these cases). I found another solution over the phone; the drive from southern Verona to the northeast was a bit long, but I finally settled at the "Oro Verde" campsite. It’s an "agricampeggio" (farm camping or rural campsite) on the outskirts of the city, and its name (green gold) suggests they produce olives there. Since it wasn’t late, I biked to the Adige River, following the recommended route into the city.
Three beautiful weeks during the Japanese autumn
I’m sharing our three-week trip to Japan from late October to mid-November 2025. There were four of us—my partner and a couple of friends.
I’ve traveled often with my friend Christian (Bolivia, Argentina, Costa Rica, Namibia, Laos), but this time our partners joined us.
The rough itinerary:
Arrival in Tokyo. Visiting Shinjuku/Shibuya districts + day trip to Kamakura
5 days in the Japanese Alps, from Matsumoto to Kanazawa (via Kamikochi, Hirayu Onsen, and Takayama)
5 days in Kyoto
Nara, Osaka, Koyasan
Return to Tokyo (Asakusa district), with a day trip to Nikko
We booked our flights well in advance (9 months ahead): the flight cost 1086 € per person. Compared to over 2000 € if we’d booked for the same dates just 3 months prior.
For accommodations, we mostly used Booking.com. The onsen was booked via Japanican, and in Kyoto, we stayed in an Airbnb.
We also made 5 train reservations a month in advance on Klook or directly on the train’s website.
Day 1: Departure from Brussels (October 24, 2025) Early morning takeoff at 6 AM to Munich (1.5-hour layover) with Lufthansa, then a 12-hour flight with ANA, arriving the next morning at 7 AM at Tokyo Haneda.
Day 2: Arrival in Tokyo Airport formalities were quick. The eSIM we bought before leaving activated as soon as we landed (10 GB plan with Saily—more than enough for our mobile internet needs, mainly Google Maps and Google Translate). We’d received 4 ICOCA cards from our neighbors, which we loaded with 15000 ¥ each. We took the Keihin train, then the Yamanote Line. It’s easy to navigate since everything is in English, and each station is announced on scrolling displays in English too.
We got off the Yamanote Line at the station just after Shinjuku because it’s easier to exit that massive station with our luggage. So we ended up in Shin-Okubo, right in the Korean district. A 10-minute walk took us to Villa Fontaine Hotel. A great hotel, well-located north of the Kabukichō district. The room even seemed bigger than we’d expected.
It was 15°C, but it rained—and kept raining on and off all day. Belgian weather, basically.
We went for a walk in Shinjuku Gyoen Park. Not as pretty in the rain, but the big greenhouse was interesting.
Then our first ramen (hearty and for 1000 ¥—pretty much the price of all our ramen during the trip). We headed back to the hotel since check-in was after 3 PM. Shower and relax before going out for dinner. Dinner was barbecue at Shichirin Yakiniku Anan (1700 ¥ each—good and cheap). Ordering via tablet wasn’t easy, but luckily it was in English.
We ended the evening with a stroll through Kabukichō before a well-deserved sleep.
Day 1: Departure from Brussels (October 24, 2025) Early morning takeoff at 6 AM to Munich (1.5-hour layover) with Lufthansa, then a 12-hour flight with ANA, arriving the next morning at 7 AM at Tokyo Haneda.
Day 2: Arrival in Tokyo Airport formalities were quick. The eSIM we bought before leaving activated as soon as we landed (10 GB plan with Saily—more than enough for our mobile internet needs, mainly Google Maps and Google Translate). We’d received 4 ICOCA cards from our neighbors, which we loaded with 15000 ¥ each. We took the Keihin train, then the Yamanote Line. It’s easy to navigate since everything is in English, and each station is announced on scrolling displays in English too.
We got off the Yamanote Line at the station just after Shinjuku because it’s easier to exit that massive station with our luggage. So we ended up in Shin-Okubo, right in the Korean district. A 10-minute walk took us to Villa Fontaine Hotel. A great hotel, well-located north of the Kabukichō district. The room even seemed bigger than we’d expected.
It was 15°C, but it rained—and kept raining on and off all day. Belgian weather, basically.
We went for a walk in Shinjuku Gyoen Park. Not as pretty in the rain, but the big greenhouse was interesting.
Then our first ramen (hearty and for 1000 ¥—pretty much the price of all our ramen during the trip). We headed back to the hotel since check-in was after 3 PM. Shower and relax before going out for dinner. Dinner was barbecue at Shichirin Yakiniku Anan (1700 ¥ each—good and cheap). Ordering via tablet wasn’t easy, but luckily it was in English.
We ended the evening with a stroll through Kabukichō before a well-deserved sleep.
Trip to Morocco in September-October 2025, in our camper van
Hi everyone,
We’re just back from a month-long trip to Morocco in our camper van.
After crossing France (we left from the Nantes area) and Spain, we arrived in Algeciras where we bought our boat tickets to Tangier. When we got to Tangier, as we were going through customs, you can imagine our surprise when the customs officer took our road map of Morocco and pointed out the label "Western Sahara" (just like in the forum’s destination section, by the way!).
He wanted it to say "Moroccan Sahara" instead!!! But there was nothing we could do—it was an old map... He wouldn’t listen, and after long discussions with the other (younger) customs officers, he finally gave it back and let us through... Unbelievable! Later, we heard that other travelers had their maps confiscated outright.
So, hide it well if you want to keep yours!!!
Anyway, we skirted around Tangier’s suburbs—pretty grim—and finally arrived in Asilah.
Following the coast and the long promenade along the beach, we reached the campsite. It was a bit crowded, not much shade, but it wasn’t far from the medina or the beach, and it wasn’t expensive. There’s some life here: Moroccan families seem to live on-site, in tents or basic bungalows. A woman was cooking tagine on a brazier—we were right in the atmosphere! The night was quiet, and we slept well. We set off on foot, walking along the seafront to the medina... We’d already been here in 2009. It was less touristy back then! Still, at this early hour, the little streets inside were very quiet. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, and there were even more murals than before. Around 11:30 AM, we strolled along the ramparts by the sea. There was a nice breeze! And a lot more people around. We enjoyed a milkshake on the terrace of a café overlooking the beach that stretches out at the foot of the medina. Some young guys were having fun diving off the rocks—and even off the top of the wall!
Anyway, we skirted around Tangier’s suburbs—pretty grim—and finally arrived in Asilah.
Following the coast and the long promenade along the beach, we reached the campsite. It was a bit crowded, not much shade, but it wasn’t far from the medina or the beach, and it wasn’t expensive. There’s some life here: Moroccan families seem to live on-site, in tents or basic bungalows. A woman was cooking tagine on a brazier—we were right in the atmosphere! The night was quiet, and we slept well. We set off on foot, walking along the seafront to the medina... We’d already been here in 2009. It was less touristy back then! Still, at this early hour, the little streets inside were very quiet. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, and there were even more murals than before. Around 11:30 AM, we strolled along the ramparts by the sea. There was a nice breeze! And a lot more people around. We enjoyed a milkshake on the terrace of a café overlooking the beach that stretches out at the foot of the medina. Some young guys were having fun diving off the rocks—and even off the top of the wall!
Martine from DD in Arizona and New Mexico
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! 🙂
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! 🙂
KLM: rerouted without notice!
Hi there,
This afternoon I had a flight at 5:10 PM to Amsterdam from Nice (final destination: Berlin). I arrived at the airport a little before 3:00 PM and saw that the flight was now leaving at 6:30 PM. I went to the counter to point out that I wouldn’t have time to make my connection, and they told me I’d be spending the night in Amsterdam.
When the agent checked her computer, she saw that I’d been put on a flight with another airline and asked if I hadn’t received an email.
In the end, I had to change terminals and leave at 7:05 PM with Swiss Airlines, then Air Baltic.
Just to clarify, I checked in less than 24 hours ago for both KLM flights (Nice-Amsterdam and Amsterdam-Berlin) where I had seats assigned. I checked my emails carefully, and I was never notified!
Luckily, the Swiss Airlines flight left later—otherwise, at 3:00 PM, I wouldn’t have had time to check in (I have a checked bag), and I don’t know how I would’ve proven I never got an email. Also, thankfully, I went to the counter much earlier than planned for the 6:30 PM departure.
In the end, I was lucky because with KLM, I would’ve lost a whole day. And it’s a good thing I always travel for at least two full weeks because I’ve often lost a day due to delays—I wouldn’t do that for a week or a weekend getaway...
This is the first time this has happened to me, but there’s a first time for everything!
This afternoon I had a flight at 5:10 PM to Amsterdam from Nice (final destination: Berlin). I arrived at the airport a little before 3:00 PM and saw that the flight was now leaving at 6:30 PM. I went to the counter to point out that I wouldn’t have time to make my connection, and they told me I’d be spending the night in Amsterdam.
When the agent checked her computer, she saw that I’d been put on a flight with another airline and asked if I hadn’t received an email.
In the end, I had to change terminals and leave at 7:05 PM with Swiss Airlines, then Air Baltic.
Just to clarify, I checked in less than 24 hours ago for both KLM flights (Nice-Amsterdam and Amsterdam-Berlin) where I had seats assigned. I checked my emails carefully, and I was never notified!
Luckily, the Swiss Airlines flight left later—otherwise, at 3:00 PM, I wouldn’t have had time to check in (I have a checked bag), and I don’t know how I would’ve proven I never got an email. Also, thankfully, I went to the counter much earlier than planned for the 6:30 PM departure.
In the end, I was lucky because with KLM, I would’ve lost a whole day. And it’s a good thing I always travel for at least two full weeks because I’ve often lost a day due to delays—I wouldn’t do that for a week or a weekend getaway...
This is the first time this has happened to me, but there’s a first time for everything!
Review of an Aegean Sea cruise on Ponant's Bougainville from November 1-8, 2025
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
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
A summer in the sun in... Iceland!!
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 😏!!
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 😏!!
Road Trip USA 2023 - Part 2
HIGHWAY 1
Highway 1 runs along the Pacific coast of California from Leggett in the north to Dana Point in the south. It's the longest state route in California, stretching 1,050 km.
It's famous for its breathtaking ocean views. That’s actually why it’s become such a popular route for road trips, with tons of attractions and points of interest all along the way.
After crossing the U.S. interior on our way out (see Road Trip USA 2023 - Part 1), we’re starting our return trip along this route from Leggett.
Videos are embedded throughout the summary. Please click on the image to start the video. To jump to a specific post, here are the appropriate links:
CALIFORNIA:
Scenic Overlooks on Route 1 Between Leggett and Fort Bragg The Pudding Creek Trestle Bridge in Fort Bragg Glass Beach - Fort Bragg Jenner Lookout Point - Highway 1 Goat Rock Beach - Sonoma Coast State Park - Jenner Point Reyes National Seashore - White House Pool Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - Limantour Beach Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Shipwreck Point Reyes National Seashore - Kehoe Beach Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - McClures Beach Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - Cypress Tree Tunnel Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Beach North Point Reyes National Seashore - Elephant Seals on Drakes Beach Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Beach South Point Reyes National Seashore – Elephant Seals Overlooks Point Reyes National Seashore - Chimney Rock Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Lighthouse Trail Point Reyes National Seashore – Tule Elk Observation Point Bonita Lighthouse Trail - Sausalito Hawk Hill - Sausalito Battery Spencer Trail - Sausalito Rodeo Beach - Sausalito Point Cavallo - Golden Gate View - Sausalito Exploring Downtown Sausalito Visiting Sausalito’s Houseboats Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge - San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge Viewpoints - San Francisco Cruise to Alcatraz Island - San Francisco Visiting Alcatraz Island - San Francisco Civic Center - Downtown San Francisco Market Street & Yerba Buena Gardens - Downtown San Francisco Union Square & Financial District - Downtown San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf, Pier 39 & Embarcadero - San Francisco Sea Lion Observation - Pier 39 - San Francisco Lombard Street & Cable Car - Russian Hill - San Francisco Macondray Lane Historic District - Russian Hill - San Francisco Grace Cathedral & Huntington Park - Nob Hill - San Francisco Telegraph Hill - San Francisco Chinatown - San Francisco Alamo Square & Painted Ladies - Western Addition - San Francisco Palace of Fine Arts - Marina District - San Francisco Presidio of San Francisco California Coastal Trail - Lincoln Park - San Francisco California Palace of the Legion of Honor - Lincoln Park - San Francisco Sutro Baths - Lincoln Park - San Francisco Queen Wilhelmina Garden - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Bison Paddock - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Portals of the Past - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Strawberry Hill - Golden Gate Park – San Francisco Prayerbook Cross & Robin Williams Meadow - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Hidden Garden Steps & 16th Avenue Tiled Steps - San Francisco Grandview Park - San Francisco Hike - Twin Peaks Three Summits - San Francisco Longboarding Down Twin Peaks Blvd in San Francisco Haight-Ashbury - San Francisco Corona Heights Park - San Francisco Mission Dolores - San Francisco Mural Frescoes (Part 1) - Mission District - San Francisco Mural Frescoes (Part 2) - Mission District - San Francisco Devil's Slide Bunker - Pacifica Mavericks Beach - Half Moon Bay Martins Beach - Half Moon Bay Pigeon Point Lighthouse State Historic Park - Pescadero What to See in Santa Cruz Visiting Capitola What to See in Monterey Carmel-by-the-Sea Lovers Point Park - Pacific Grove Castle Rock, Hurricane Point & Little Sur River Viewpoints Pfeiffer Falls Trail Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park Vista Point & McWay Falls Highway 1 - Big Sur Viewpoints Salmon Creek Falls San Carpoforo Creek Trail Elephant Seal Vista Point - San Simeon San Simeon Pier Moonstone Beach Boardwalk Shipwreck - Estero Bluffs State Park Surfing Competition in Morro Bay Port San Luis Pier - San Luis Obispo Pismo Beach Monarch Butterfly Grove - Pismo State Beach Nojoqui Falls Park - Solvang Arroyo Hondo Vista Point Solvang, a Charming Danish Town in California Chumash Painted Cave - Santa Barbara Goleta San Marcos Rd & Cachuma Lake Vista Points - Santa Barbara Old Santa Barbara Mission Walking Tour of Santa Barbara’s Historic Downtown West Beach - Santa Barbara What to See in Ventura Paradise Falls - Wildwood Regional Park - Thousand Oaks Sandy Dune & El Matador State Beach - Malibu Point Dume Nature Reserve - Malibu Malibu Pier Road Trip in the Malibu Mountains Los Liones Trail - Santa Monica Santa Monica Pier Rodeo Drive - Beverly Hills Greystone Mansion - Beverly Hills Hollywood Walk of Fame - Los Angeles Griffith Observatory - Los Angeles Hollywood Forever Cemetery - Los Angeles What to See in Venice Beach Venice Beach Skatepark ShoreLine Aquatic Park - Long Beach Alamitos Beach - Long Beach Naples Island - Long Beach Crescent Bay Point Park & Helser Park Kiosk - Laguna Beach Shell Beach at Twin Points - Laguna Beach Prairie Dogs at Agra Vista Point Top Gun House & Oceanside Pier Annie's Canyon Trail - Solana Beach (Via North Rios Trailhead Loop) Old Town San Diego La Jolla Coastal Trail - San Diego Balboa Park - San Diego Pacific Beach - San Diego Mission Beach - San Diego Ocean Beach Tide Pools - San Diego Sunset Cliffs Natural Park - San Diego Tuna Harbor Park - San Diego Seaport Village & Embarcadero Marina Park - San Diego Gaslamp Quarter - Downtown San Diego Coronado Island - San Diego Dead Dolly Lane - Alpine Galleta Meadows Metal Sculptures - Borrego Springs What to See in Palm Springs Robolights - Palm Springs Andreas Canyon Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs Palm Canyon Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs West Fork Falls Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs Tahquitz Canyon Loop Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs Desert Christ Park - Yucca Valley Pioneertown Salvation Mountain - Niland Slab City - Niland
Highway 1 runs along the Pacific coast of California from Leggett in the north to Dana Point in the south. It's the longest state route in California, stretching 1,050 km.
It's famous for its breathtaking ocean views. That’s actually why it’s become such a popular route for road trips, with tons of attractions and points of interest all along the way.
After crossing the U.S. interior on our way out (see Road Trip USA 2023 - Part 1), we’re starting our return trip along this route from Leggett.
Videos are embedded throughout the summary. Please click on the image to start the video. To jump to a specific post, here are the appropriate links:
CALIFORNIA:
Scenic Overlooks on Route 1 Between Leggett and Fort Bragg The Pudding Creek Trestle Bridge in Fort Bragg Glass Beach - Fort Bragg Jenner Lookout Point - Highway 1 Goat Rock Beach - Sonoma Coast State Park - Jenner Point Reyes National Seashore - White House Pool Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - Limantour Beach Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Shipwreck Point Reyes National Seashore - Kehoe Beach Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - McClures Beach Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - Cypress Tree Tunnel Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Beach North Point Reyes National Seashore - Elephant Seals on Drakes Beach Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Beach South Point Reyes National Seashore – Elephant Seals Overlooks Point Reyes National Seashore - Chimney Rock Trail Point Reyes National Seashore - Point Reyes Lighthouse Trail Point Reyes National Seashore – Tule Elk Observation Point Bonita Lighthouse Trail - Sausalito Hawk Hill - Sausalito Battery Spencer Trail - Sausalito Rodeo Beach - Sausalito Point Cavallo - Golden Gate View - Sausalito Exploring Downtown Sausalito Visiting Sausalito’s Houseboats Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge - San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge Viewpoints - San Francisco Cruise to Alcatraz Island - San Francisco Visiting Alcatraz Island - San Francisco Civic Center - Downtown San Francisco Market Street & Yerba Buena Gardens - Downtown San Francisco Union Square & Financial District - Downtown San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf, Pier 39 & Embarcadero - San Francisco Sea Lion Observation - Pier 39 - San Francisco Lombard Street & Cable Car - Russian Hill - San Francisco Macondray Lane Historic District - Russian Hill - San Francisco Grace Cathedral & Huntington Park - Nob Hill - San Francisco Telegraph Hill - San Francisco Chinatown - San Francisco Alamo Square & Painted Ladies - Western Addition - San Francisco Palace of Fine Arts - Marina District - San Francisco Presidio of San Francisco California Coastal Trail - Lincoln Park - San Francisco California Palace of the Legion of Honor - Lincoln Park - San Francisco Sutro Baths - Lincoln Park - San Francisco Queen Wilhelmina Garden - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Bison Paddock - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Portals of the Past - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Strawberry Hill - Golden Gate Park – San Francisco Prayerbook Cross & Robin Williams Meadow - Golden Gate Park - San Francisco Hidden Garden Steps & 16th Avenue Tiled Steps - San Francisco Grandview Park - San Francisco Hike - Twin Peaks Three Summits - San Francisco Longboarding Down Twin Peaks Blvd in San Francisco Haight-Ashbury - San Francisco Corona Heights Park - San Francisco Mission Dolores - San Francisco Mural Frescoes (Part 1) - Mission District - San Francisco Mural Frescoes (Part 2) - Mission District - San Francisco Devil's Slide Bunker - Pacifica Mavericks Beach - Half Moon Bay Martins Beach - Half Moon Bay Pigeon Point Lighthouse State Historic Park - Pescadero What to See in Santa Cruz Visiting Capitola What to See in Monterey Carmel-by-the-Sea Lovers Point Park - Pacific Grove Castle Rock, Hurricane Point & Little Sur River Viewpoints Pfeiffer Falls Trail Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park Vista Point & McWay Falls Highway 1 - Big Sur Viewpoints Salmon Creek Falls San Carpoforo Creek Trail Elephant Seal Vista Point - San Simeon San Simeon Pier Moonstone Beach Boardwalk Shipwreck - Estero Bluffs State Park Surfing Competition in Morro Bay Port San Luis Pier - San Luis Obispo Pismo Beach Monarch Butterfly Grove - Pismo State Beach Nojoqui Falls Park - Solvang Arroyo Hondo Vista Point Solvang, a Charming Danish Town in California Chumash Painted Cave - Santa Barbara Goleta San Marcos Rd & Cachuma Lake Vista Points - Santa Barbara Old Santa Barbara Mission Walking Tour of Santa Barbara’s Historic Downtown West Beach - Santa Barbara What to See in Ventura Paradise Falls - Wildwood Regional Park - Thousand Oaks Sandy Dune & El Matador State Beach - Malibu Point Dume Nature Reserve - Malibu Malibu Pier Road Trip in the Malibu Mountains Los Liones Trail - Santa Monica Santa Monica Pier Rodeo Drive - Beverly Hills Greystone Mansion - Beverly Hills Hollywood Walk of Fame - Los Angeles Griffith Observatory - Los Angeles Hollywood Forever Cemetery - Los Angeles What to See in Venice Beach Venice Beach Skatepark ShoreLine Aquatic Park - Long Beach Alamitos Beach - Long Beach Naples Island - Long Beach Crescent Bay Point Park & Helser Park Kiosk - Laguna Beach Shell Beach at Twin Points - Laguna Beach Prairie Dogs at Agra Vista Point Top Gun House & Oceanside Pier Annie's Canyon Trail - Solana Beach (Via North Rios Trailhead Loop) Old Town San Diego La Jolla Coastal Trail - San Diego Balboa Park - San Diego Pacific Beach - San Diego Mission Beach - San Diego Ocean Beach Tide Pools - San Diego Sunset Cliffs Natural Park - San Diego Tuna Harbor Park - San Diego Seaport Village & Embarcadero Marina Park - San Diego Gaslamp Quarter - Downtown San Diego Coronado Island - San Diego Dead Dolly Lane - Alpine Galleta Meadows Metal Sculptures - Borrego Springs What to See in Palm Springs Robolights - Palm Springs Andreas Canyon Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs Palm Canyon Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs West Fork Falls Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs Tahquitz Canyon Loop Trail - Indian Canyons - Palm Springs Desert Christ Park - Yucca Valley Pioneertown Salvation Mountain - Niland Slab City - Niland
Solo backpacking trip to Benin
Hi everyone, thanks for your advice! I’m starting a new thread because it seems my first one about Senegal was deleted—or maybe it’s just my computer acting up again 😉. Anyway, I’ve decided to go to Benin instead. I’ll be there from January 5th to February 2nd—why count the days when you love traveling😄? I’d love all your tips on accommodations, restaurants, and itineraries. I’m basically starting from scratch to plan my trip.
Looking for feedback on bike touring in Central Asia
Hi everyone,
We’re planning to spend 5 months cycling as a family in Central Asia. To align with the weather, we’re thinking of arriving in Uzbekistan in April, heading toward the Ferghana Valley in late April/early May, and wrapping up with a long stretch in Kyrgyzstan from mid-May to early August.
I haven’t really dug into the third part (Kyrgyzstan) yet, but from what I’ve seen on the forum and online, cycling across Uzbekistan doesn’t seem all that appealing: long, straight desert stretches with lots of trucks.
Has anyone come across any "hidden gem" routes they’d be willing to share? I’ve already noted that it’s best to avoid riding toward Tashkent. I’m looking for routes between Bukhara and Samarkand, and any nearby areas that are nice for cycling.
I’d love to fly into Dushanbe to reach Samarkand, but we all agree that it’s not a good fit for the season (early April) if we’re cycling, right?
Thanks for your feedback! Ludo
I haven’t really dug into the third part (Kyrgyzstan) yet, but from what I’ve seen on the forum and online, cycling across Uzbekistan doesn’t seem all that appealing: long, straight desert stretches with lots of trucks.
Has anyone come across any "hidden gem" routes they’d be willing to share? I’ve already noted that it’s best to avoid riding toward Tashkent. I’m looking for routes between Bukhara and Samarkand, and any nearby areas that are nice for cycling.
I’d love to fly into Dushanbe to reach Samarkand, but we all agree that it’s not a good fit for the season (early April) if we’re cycling, right?
Thanks for your feedback! Ludo
Langtang – Trekking in the Rain
We did the Langtang trek (hike) from September 10th to 17th, with the first and last days being the trip from Kathmandu and back—so 6 days of actual walking. It’s a fairly well-known trek but certainly not as famous or crowded as those in the Annapurna or Everest regions, which is why we chose it.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
In theory, it’s mandatory to have a guide for this trek. In reality, it seems there are ways to bypass the regulations: we met at least two people hiking without a guide—a South Korean, a New Zealander, and possibly also a couple of English women and an American couple, though we’re not sure if they had a guide.
The agency we booked with had told us it was an affordable trek for relatively older people in good shape—which is our case (I’m 72 myself). I have to say upfront that we found it quite challenging, maybe because we didn’t have good weather—it was the end of the monsoon season. To be clear, no matter your fitness level, I’d say doing this trek in the middle of the monsoon season would be suicidal.
Day 1 – Journey from Kathmandu to Syapru Besi
On Monday, September 8th, there had been violent protests in Kathmandu against the government, which had, among other things, blocked access to social media and been accused of nepotism and corruption. There were 19 deaths. The situation was very tense on the day of our departure, Wednesday the 10th. The agency warned us that public transport was very unreliable. So, we decided to take a jeep, at an additional cost of $100 ($160 minus what was already budgeted for the bus).
We left a little before 7 a.m. and it took us a good hour just to reach the outskirts of Kathmandu. Along the way, we saw several houses and vehicles set on fire by protesters.
The road to Syapru Besi is only 120 km, but it’s frankly awful. It’s always narrow, winds through endless mountains, and the shoulders range from bad to confusing to nonexistent. Several sections are just dirt tracks. We didn’t regret opting for the jeep, as we could stop several times at our convenience—if only to let Y (my Thai partner) throw up everything she had. She’d taken her usual motion sickness medication, but the constant turns, accelerations, and braking eventually made her terribly carsick.
In Nuwakot, we stopped for breakfast at a nice little restaurant, Jimbu. It was around 8:30 a.m., and we’d barely covered 60 km. The restaurant has a lovely garden overlooking the Trishuli Ganga, the river flowing down from Syapru Besi. First photo: the river in the bottom right corner, mist and clouds over the mountain on the other side.
An hour later, my second photo: the hills along the Trishuli Ganga. You can see the different crops—lush green rice paddies in the lower right and corn, already yellowed and likely harvested, in the foreground on the left. And of course, the mist and clouds through which you can glimpse the mountain on the other side of the river.
The Two of Us in Istanbul: A Turkish Blue Round
Hello everyone,
I’m not really a regular contributor to VoyageForum, but every time Kate and I travel, she encourages me to write a travel journal and publish it. And I must admit, it’s a very enjoyable intellectual exercise, though not always easy. As a VF contributor whose journals I’ve read once said, this retrospective work not only helps preserve memories but also provides a fruitful moment of introspection by bringing back emotions and feelings.
Kate and I spent a week in Istanbul. For her, who had already visited, it was a return; for me, it was a discovery.
As we’ve now made a habit of, I write the texts, and she posts her photos. We hope this illustrated story, crafted together, will revive beautiful sensations for those who know the city and inspire others to discover it. Here we go!
I’m not really a regular contributor to VoyageForum, but every time Kate and I travel, she encourages me to write a travel journal and publish it. And I must admit, it’s a very enjoyable intellectual exercise, though not always easy. As a VF contributor whose journals I’ve read once said, this retrospective work not only helps preserve memories but also provides a fruitful moment of introspection by bringing back emotions and feelings.
Kate and I spent a week in Istanbul. For her, who had already visited, it was a return; for me, it was a discovery.
As we’ve now made a habit of, I write the texts, and she posts her photos. We hope this illustrated story, crafted together, will revive beautiful sensations for those who know the city and inspire others to discover it. Here we go!
Preparing for a trip to Sri Lanka
Hi everyone.
The tickets for SRI LANKA are booked—arriving in COLOMBO on 12/21 and returning from the same place on 01/17. I’ve read here and there that it’ll be high season, but we don’t have a choice, so we’ll make do...
My first question is obviously about the itinerary: Most of the ones I’ve seen go clockwise, and I’m wondering if I should do it the other way: - To avoid the cultural triangle between Christmas and New Year’s - To start with a bit of rest (we’re really wiped out) Does that make sense?
My second question is about the time allocated to each stop, which you’ll find below. Is it balanced? Too much here and not enough there?
My third question will be about Jaffna: yes or no? How long is the trip from Anuradhapura? Where can I fit in the 3 days needed?
Thanks for your replies. A few details: ultra-independent travelers, using public transport, hikers, minimum 2 nights per accommodation. First time in Sri Lanka! !
The tickets for SRI LANKA are booked—arriving in COLOMBO on 12/21 and returning from the same place on 01/17. I’ve read here and there that it’ll be high season, but we don’t have a choice, so we’ll make do...
My first question is obviously about the itinerary: Most of the ones I’ve seen go clockwise, and I’m wondering if I should do it the other way: - To avoid the cultural triangle between Christmas and New Year’s - To start with a bit of rest (we’re really wiped out) Does that make sense?
My second question is about the time allocated to each stop, which you’ll find below. Is it balanced? Too much here and not enough there?
My third question will be about Jaffna: yes or no? How long is the trip from Anuradhapura? Where can I fit in the 3 days needed?
Thanks for your replies. A few details: ultra-independent travelers, using public transport, hikers, minimum 2 nights per accommodation. First time in Sri Lanka! !
Trip to Israel / Holy Land in 2022
For once, given the destination, the author can’t set aside their religious beliefs, which inevitably shape this kind of journey.
The Trip
Early in the morning at Orly Airport, in the departure lounge for Tel Aviv, a group of about forty young men arrives, all looking identical! The same neatly trimmed beards, the same identical haircuts, the same outfits with a touch of whimsy… The effect of seeing these forty “clones” is striking and raises questions! Why such perfect uniformity among this group of guys? Do they belong to the same family, sports club, cultural association, or religious group? A mystery! At the same time, the waiting area fills up with men who are more expected, given our destination: they wear large felt hats and dress in black suits with white shirts—Hassidim? The ones I’ve glimpsed fleetingly in Paris or New York, who have always been a mystery to me. More discreet-looking women accompany them.
I’m already in Israel without even setting foot there! Plus, I witness the preparations for an improvised show.
The “clones” start a flash mob at seven in the morning in a Paris airport departure lounge! Some pull out musical instruments, others begin singing and dancing. A music with strange, unfamiliar sounds enchants the waiting passengers.
The flight crew finally arrives, cutting through the flash mob, bringing us back to the reality of the moment: waiting to take off soon for this so troubling and mysterious Middle East. We go through passport control, presenting our faces to the scanners that operate the exit gate. The group of “identical” young men gets held up by the system: logically, a scanner let the first one through but blocked the second because of his perfect resemblance to the first. To the machine, the same person shouldn’t be able to cross the border twice? But eventually, the whole group makes it through the glass doors, leaving the Republic behind. My simplistic explanation is left looking ridiculous.
At every new destination, I ask myself countless questions, revealing a certain anxiety tied to the unknown: fear of attacks (one just happened at a bus station in Jerusalem), possible police pressure, unexpected events. Israel isn’t known for being a relaxing destination. In reality, if I did face a serious difficulty in this country, it wasn’t one I had anticipated—and it wasn’t particularly tied to Israel!
I take my seat by the window, which is already occupied by a little girl. Her father, a Hassidic man, politely asks if I’d be willing to give up my seat for his daughter. I tell him I’d be happy to make her happy. Seeing me masked, he asks if I’d like him and his daughter to wear masks too. In response, I take off my mask so as not to impose any constraints on them and wish them a good flight.
It was the first time I’d approached and spoken to a Hassidic man. He didn’t speak the way I might have expected after watching *Rabbi Jacob* with Louis de Funès; he spoke perfectly without an accent, just like you and me! Beware of stereotypes! Throughout the flight, I sneak glances at my strange neighbor: he prayed silently without stopping for a minute. His daughter, as good as gold, never interrupted him. He used several religious accessories during his three-hour continuous prayer: a kippa, a prayer shawl, and a rosary?… I left that plane deeply impressed, me, who has a very distant relationship with my Creator and only prays now and then.
The Trip
Early in the morning at Orly Airport, in the departure lounge for Tel Aviv, a group of about forty young men arrives, all looking identical! The same neatly trimmed beards, the same identical haircuts, the same outfits with a touch of whimsy… The effect of seeing these forty “clones” is striking and raises questions! Why such perfect uniformity among this group of guys? Do they belong to the same family, sports club, cultural association, or religious group? A mystery! At the same time, the waiting area fills up with men who are more expected, given our destination: they wear large felt hats and dress in black suits with white shirts—Hassidim? The ones I’ve glimpsed fleetingly in Paris or New York, who have always been a mystery to me. More discreet-looking women accompany them.
I’m already in Israel without even setting foot there! Plus, I witness the preparations for an improvised show.
The “clones” start a flash mob at seven in the morning in a Paris airport departure lounge! Some pull out musical instruments, others begin singing and dancing. A music with strange, unfamiliar sounds enchants the waiting passengers.
The flight crew finally arrives, cutting through the flash mob, bringing us back to the reality of the moment: waiting to take off soon for this so troubling and mysterious Middle East. We go through passport control, presenting our faces to the scanners that operate the exit gate. The group of “identical” young men gets held up by the system: logically, a scanner let the first one through but blocked the second because of his perfect resemblance to the first. To the machine, the same person shouldn’t be able to cross the border twice? But eventually, the whole group makes it through the glass doors, leaving the Republic behind. My simplistic explanation is left looking ridiculous.
At every new destination, I ask myself countless questions, revealing a certain anxiety tied to the unknown: fear of attacks (one just happened at a bus station in Jerusalem), possible police pressure, unexpected events. Israel isn’t known for being a relaxing destination. In reality, if I did face a serious difficulty in this country, it wasn’t one I had anticipated—and it wasn’t particularly tied to Israel!
I take my seat by the window, which is already occupied by a little girl. Her father, a Hassidic man, politely asks if I’d be willing to give up my seat for his daughter. I tell him I’d be happy to make her happy. Seeing me masked, he asks if I’d like him and his daughter to wear masks too. In response, I take off my mask so as not to impose any constraints on them and wish them a good flight.
It was the first time I’d approached and spoken to a Hassidic man. He didn’t speak the way I might have expected after watching *Rabbi Jacob* with Louis de Funès; he spoke perfectly without an accent, just like you and me! Beware of stereotypes! Throughout the flight, I sneak glances at my strange neighbor: he prayed silently without stopping for a minute. His daughter, as good as gold, never interrupted him. He used several religious accessories during his three-hour continuous prayer: a kippa, a prayer shawl, and a rosary?… I left that plane deeply impressed, me, who has a very distant relationship with my Creator and only prays now and then.
Your recommendations for a 2-week trip to Thailand
Hi there,
We have the opportunity to get away for a little two-week trip at the very beginning of January, just the two of us, without our kids. Because of the kids, we haven’t traveled much in Asia, so we’d love to take advantage of their absence to explore Thailand. Even though I’m used to planning our trips, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed this time.
We’d like to visit Bangkok and head south by renting a car (we have an international driver’s license, and my husband has driven on the left before). I’ve managed to sketch out a rough itinerary that might work for us, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.
To set the scene: we haven’t booked anything yet, we don’t like spending hours on the beach (though a little time at the end of the day is fine), we love walking and sightseeing, and what we enjoy most is being independent (so if we can avoid group tours, that’s ideal).
After that intro, here’s the rough outline of our itinerary: Day 0: Paris-Bangkok flight Days 1, 2, and 3: Bangkok (Wat Pho, Grand Palace, Wat Arun, markets, boat ride through the khlongs, Jim Thompson House) Day 4: Ayutthaya Day 5: Pick up a rental car and head to Sam Roi Yot Day 6: Sam Roi Yot and Prachuap Khiri Khan Day 7: Drive south – overnight near Surat Thani Day 8: Uthayan Tham Khao Na Nai, then drive to Ao Nang (staying near Tubkaek) Days 9 and 10: Boat trips (Railay, Ko Hong, etc.) Day 11: Drive to Phang Nga with a few stops along the way Day 12: Boat tour (mangroves and Ko Tapu) Day 13: Drive to Phuket Airport and return flight
A few questions and doubts: - I’d considered Cheow Lan Lake but read some not-so-great reviews (crowds, just 3 viewpoints, and the rest was meh). What do you think? - Can we start from Ao Thalane Pier for trips to Ko Hong and Ko Tapu? - I’m not thrilled about driving through Bangkok, but I’m not sure where to rent a car west of the city (since we won’t return it to the same place, I assume it’s best to target rental companies at airports).
Thanks in advance for any tips or feedback you can share to help me (or not 😛) refine this plan before I start booking!
We have the opportunity to get away for a little two-week trip at the very beginning of January, just the two of us, without our kids. Because of the kids, we haven’t traveled much in Asia, so we’d love to take advantage of their absence to explore Thailand. Even though I’m used to planning our trips, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed this time.
We’d like to visit Bangkok and head south by renting a car (we have an international driver’s license, and my husband has driven on the left before). I’ve managed to sketch out a rough itinerary that might work for us, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.
To set the scene: we haven’t booked anything yet, we don’t like spending hours on the beach (though a little time at the end of the day is fine), we love walking and sightseeing, and what we enjoy most is being independent (so if we can avoid group tours, that’s ideal).
After that intro, here’s the rough outline of our itinerary: Day 0: Paris-Bangkok flight Days 1, 2, and 3: Bangkok (Wat Pho, Grand Palace, Wat Arun, markets, boat ride through the khlongs, Jim Thompson House) Day 4: Ayutthaya Day 5: Pick up a rental car and head to Sam Roi Yot Day 6: Sam Roi Yot and Prachuap Khiri Khan Day 7: Drive south – overnight near Surat Thani Day 8: Uthayan Tham Khao Na Nai, then drive to Ao Nang (staying near Tubkaek) Days 9 and 10: Boat trips (Railay, Ko Hong, etc.) Day 11: Drive to Phang Nga with a few stops along the way Day 12: Boat tour (mangroves and Ko Tapu) Day 13: Drive to Phuket Airport and return flight
A few questions and doubts: - I’d considered Cheow Lan Lake but read some not-so-great reviews (crowds, just 3 viewpoints, and the rest was meh). What do you think? - Can we start from Ao Thalane Pier for trips to Ko Hong and Ko Tapu? - I’m not thrilled about driving through Bangkok, but I’m not sure where to rent a car west of the city (since we won’t return it to the same place, I assume it’s best to target rental companies at airports).
Thanks in advance for any tips or feedback you can share to help me (or not 😛) refine this plan before I start booking!
Looking for feedback and advice on a Thailand-Laos-Cambodia itinerary plan
Hi everyone,
I’m starting to plan my next trip to Southeast Asia this winter (2.5 months, leaving in early December), and here’s a rough outline of my route—I’d love to share it with you and hear your thoughts and tips.
- I’ll start in Bangkok and already have three spots I’ve marked: Ayutthaya, Kanchanaburi, and Uthai Thani (I haven’t been to any of these places yet). - Next, I’d like to cross the country from west to east to reach the Laos border. I’d love suggestions for any interesting stops along this route—I don’t know this part of Thailand at all... - Then I’ll head into Laos, probably at Savannakhet (you can usually get a visa at the border). - > I’m tempted to spend a week in Hoi An, Vietnam, since I loved that city and the area when I visited two years ago. No visa needed for Vietnam now, so it could be a nice little detour. On the map, it doesn’t look too far, but I know you’ve got to be careful with these things, and I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. Any opinions on this? - Back to Laos (maybe via Dakta), and I’ll head south along the Mekong, probably doing the Bolaven Plateau loop that I missed last time. Then Paksé, the 4,000 Islands... I’ve been before, but I’d happily go back. - Crossing into Cambodia, I’ll follow the Mekong down to Phnom Penh (I know this area and love how untouristy it is). From there, I’ll probably spend a few days in Kep (quieter than Kampot). Still undecided, though. - Then back to Thailand (BKK), likely by plane from Phnom Penh since the borders between the two countries are currently closed (plus, let’s be honest, Cambodian roads... ;-). We’ll see how things look when the time comes. - After that, I’d like to explore southern Thailand, taking it slow with short hops. I’ve got my eye on Khao Sok National Park, and I’ve heard good things about Krabi... Again, I don’t know this region well, so any info or tips would be great.
So, I think this should be doable in 2.5 months, especially since I prefer short hops of 300 km max to avoid getting too tired, and I like staying 2-3 days in each place to explore. Plus, I’ll take a week off to relax if I find a spot I love—maybe by the sea for some real downtime.
Thanks for your feedback and for sharing your favorite spots! Pascal
- I’ll start in Bangkok and already have three spots I’ve marked: Ayutthaya, Kanchanaburi, and Uthai Thani (I haven’t been to any of these places yet). - Next, I’d like to cross the country from west to east to reach the Laos border. I’d love suggestions for any interesting stops along this route—I don’t know this part of Thailand at all... - Then I’ll head into Laos, probably at Savannakhet (you can usually get a visa at the border). - > I’m tempted to spend a week in Hoi An, Vietnam, since I loved that city and the area when I visited two years ago. No visa needed for Vietnam now, so it could be a nice little detour. On the map, it doesn’t look too far, but I know you’ve got to be careful with these things, and I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. Any opinions on this? - Back to Laos (maybe via Dakta), and I’ll head south along the Mekong, probably doing the Bolaven Plateau loop that I missed last time. Then Paksé, the 4,000 Islands... I’ve been before, but I’d happily go back. - Crossing into Cambodia, I’ll follow the Mekong down to Phnom Penh (I know this area and love how untouristy it is). From there, I’ll probably spend a few days in Kep (quieter than Kampot). Still undecided, though. - Then back to Thailand (BKK), likely by plane from Phnom Penh since the borders between the two countries are currently closed (plus, let’s be honest, Cambodian roads... ;-). We’ll see how things look when the time comes. - After that, I’d like to explore southern Thailand, taking it slow with short hops. I’ve got my eye on Khao Sok National Park, and I’ve heard good things about Krabi... Again, I don’t know this region well, so any info or tips would be great.
So, I think this should be doable in 2.5 months, especially since I prefer short hops of 300 km max to avoid getting too tired, and I like staying 2-3 days in each place to explore. Plus, I’ll take a week off to relax if I find a spot I love—maybe by the sea for some real downtime.
Thanks for your feedback and for sharing your favorite spots! Pascal