Results for "Musée+Femmes+|+8+>+194"
36177 results found.
Susheela Raman 11 mai Bruxelles English translation pending
BRUXELLES......11 Mai......Cirque Royal......
Il fait froid, on avance vers ce qu'ils appellent le cirque royal, foule de personnes de tous âges, mais tous animées par le même désir de se baigner dans une ambiance particulière qui leur rappelle ces lointains voyages dont ils savent prendre la saveur......
Juste le temps de s'asseoir, sale noire et quelques lumières de couleur apparaissent avec un écran de fumée et la diva indienne apparaît, et immédiatement la salle est électrisée par ses premières paroles et par la musique particulière émanant de ses musiciens......je suis scotché sur mon siège, je n'y crois pas, j'y suis quasiment......littéralement envoûté par l'aura de cette véritable princesse indienne sortie là comme pour mieux me préparer à l'expérience de son pays.......
Et puis elle laisse la place à un joueur de " Tablas ", percus indiennes qui se jouent sur les bouts des doigts, instruments dont on ne gagne la maniabilité qu'aprés de longues années de pratique.......et de suite nous sommes tous debout, électrisés par la magie qui se dégage de ces gestes desquels émanent une grande pureté musicale, chef d'oeuvre d'harmonie subjuguant la salle entière et votre serviteur plus particulièrement....😉
Le reste ne sera que pur bonheur, la salle étant littéralement transportée de bonheur par ces musiciens et la reine Susheela Raman........
Où étiez vous Jaisalmer, Sandrine, Marsu, Douya et autres fanas de l'Inde, que n'étiez vous là pour communier avec nous votre passion de l'Inde à travers ce concert........
Merci à toi Parvat de m'avoir fait partagé un grand moment de bonheur......même à Bruxelles dans le froid......😉
Il fait froid, on avance vers ce qu'ils appellent le cirque royal, foule de personnes de tous âges, mais tous animées par le même désir de se baigner dans une ambiance particulière qui leur rappelle ces lointains voyages dont ils savent prendre la saveur......
Juste le temps de s'asseoir, sale noire et quelques lumières de couleur apparaissent avec un écran de fumée et la diva indienne apparaît, et immédiatement la salle est électrisée par ses premières paroles et par la musique particulière émanant de ses musiciens......je suis scotché sur mon siège, je n'y crois pas, j'y suis quasiment......littéralement envoûté par l'aura de cette véritable princesse indienne sortie là comme pour mieux me préparer à l'expérience de son pays.......
Et puis elle laisse la place à un joueur de " Tablas ", percus indiennes qui se jouent sur les bouts des doigts, instruments dont on ne gagne la maniabilité qu'aprés de longues années de pratique.......et de suite nous sommes tous debout, électrisés par la magie qui se dégage de ces gestes desquels émanent une grande pureté musicale, chef d'oeuvre d'harmonie subjuguant la salle entière et votre serviteur plus particulièrement....😉
Le reste ne sera que pur bonheur, la salle étant littéralement transportée de bonheur par ces musiciens et la reine Susheela Raman........
Où étiez vous Jaisalmer, Sandrine, Marsu, Douya et autres fanas de l'Inde, que n'étiez vous là pour communier avec nous votre passion de l'Inde à travers ce concert........
Merci à toi Parvat de m'avoir fait partagé un grand moment de bonheur......même à Bruxelles dans le froid......😉
Excursions Puerto Plata English translation pending
Bonjour,
Je part pour Puerto Plata le 26 janvier 2004 et j'aimerais savoir si il y a quelque chose à faire et que nous devons absolument pas manquer 😎
Ou une activité ? promenade, club, équitation, plongée ... etc
J'ai entendu parlé du Outback Safari ? Est-ce que quelqu'un l'a fait et le suggère ?
MERCI 😉
Niki
Je part pour Puerto Plata le 26 janvier 2004 et j'aimerais savoir si il y a quelque chose à faire et que nous devons absolument pas manquer 😎
Ou une activité ? promenade, club, équitation, plongée ... etc
J'ai entendu parlé du Outback Safari ? Est-ce que quelqu'un l'a fait et le suggère ?
MERCI 😉
Niki
What to see and do in Banja Luka?
Hi there,
After booking an Airbnb last January for this summer’s vacation in Sarajevo... My "host" canceled our reservation without any reason—this has never happened to me before.
Of course, now it’s impossible to find a place to stay at a "normal" price in Sarajevo with parking... So we’re falling back on the capital of the Republika Srpska, Banja Luka, which had already crossed my mind before I booked Sarajevo.
I already have quite a few ideas in mind, without having dug too deep into the region yet. But if anyone has already been there and has suggestions? Even for restaurants—I’m all ears!
And even if it’s not right next door, I’m planning to spend a day in Sarajevo!
Of course, now it’s impossible to find a place to stay at a "normal" price in Sarajevo with parking... So we’re falling back on the capital of the Republika Srpska, Banja Luka, which had already crossed my mind before I booked Sarajevo.
I already have quite a few ideas in mind, without having dug too deep into the region yet. But if anyone has already been there and has suggestions? Even for restaurants—I’m all ears!
And even if it’s not right next door, I’m planning to spend a day in Sarajevo!
New adventures from Perpignan to Ranchi (Jharkhand)
March 2nd — Departure by bus from Latour at 6:50 AM. The journey isn’t direct: we pass through Elne then Corneilla. In Perpignan, I switch to a BlablaBus heading to Barcelona’s northern bus station. Before reaching Le Perthus, French police stop us to check IDs. Several people aren’t in order, but after about fifteen minutes, we’re on our way again. We’re checked again at La Jonquera: this time, the wait lasts almost forty-five minutes while police identify those in violation and wait for a vehicle to pick them up. The driver then tries to make up for lost time; we finally arrive at our destination half an hour late.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
I quickly head to the Arc de Triomphe metro station, located 200 meters away: you have to cross the bridge along the bus parking lot, then walk through a large garden; the station is on the right before the garden entrance. The trip to the airport isn’t direct: I have to change at Tomasso and take the line to the airport, where I arrive at 1 PM.
At the Emirates counter, I learn my flight was just canceled due to the war in Iran; they offer me another flight for the next day. I have to wait at the airport until 7 PM before being taken to a hotel; the next morning, I’ll take a flight to Vienna (with an 8-hour layover), then an Air India flight to Delhi, and finally a flight to Kolkata. I agree: I don’t know Vienna, so it’ll be an unexpected discovery.
At 7 PM, a small group is taken to the hotel, 35 minutes from the airport, where we’re served a light dinner upon arrival.
March 3rd — A taxi picks me up at 6:30 AM; the flight to Vienna takes off at 9:30 AM and arrives at noon. I’m free until 7 PM; the metro is direct to the city center. The weather is pleasant and not too cold, luckily, since my clothes are light.
When I exit the metro, I spot the St. Stephen’s Cathedral tower in the distance and approach it: the roof, made of glazed tiles, is remarkable.

Entry is free, and the interior, a mix of Gothic and Baroque styles in the center, is stunning.

Not far from there is St. Anne’s Church

, also Baroque, adorned with beautiful frescoes

—a music concert adds an enchanting atmosphere to the visit. I continue my walk at random through the pedestrian streets lined with magnificent buildings: I’m charmed by the city.



Before heading back to the airport, I stop at a lovely tea salon. My flight will eventually leave with a delay.
Wednesday, March 4th — Delhi and a little luggage scare We arrive in Delhi shortly after noon. Immigration is quick, and good news: my bag was checked through from Barcelona to Kolkata. I head to the connecting terminal and arrive half an hour before boarding: the flight goes smoothly. Upon arrival, the luggage comes out quickly… except mine. After filing a report, I’m told my bag is in Delhi—I have to retrieve it before taking another flight. I didn’t know (or had forgotten): with the delays, I wouldn’t have had time to pick it up and make the connection.
I take a taxi to the Ichamati Hotel. The welcome is warm, and the room is clean but very small. Without my bag, I feel a bit lost—I have nothing to change into.
Tonight, I’m dining with Raja and his friends at a beautiful restaurant, an old colonial house turned into a hotel.


We’re happy to see each other and have a comforting evening together.
Villages around Hazaribagh in West Bengal
Wednesday, April 1st
Hazaribagh I’ve got a meet-up with Adam Iman, a guide and painter. He picks me up from the hotel at 10 AM. Another traveler from Bangalore is supposed to join us, but while we wait for him to arrive, Adam takes me to see the paintings his mother and sister created at Hazaribagh station. The town became famous thanks to these murals, which can also be found in several surrounding villages. This art form has earned recognition and is now protected, a sign of its cultural importance. Once the visit is over, we go to pick up the other traveler and then head to our first village: Belwara, where Sohrai art is practiced. At the entrance, a sign proudly announces that we’re entering an artists’ village, where this art is created by women organized into micro-enterprises. Some even offer workshops for those who’d like to learn this tradition.

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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....
April 2026 Photo Contest Theme: Feeling Fishy?
The 140th (wow!) edition of the contest is now live!
Since it’s April Fools’ month and I’m a diver at heart, I had to pick a theme around the sea and fish.
This month’s theme is: sea fishing 🙂. Deep-sea fishing, rockpooling, shore casting, shellfish & crustaceans—anything remotely related to sea fishing fits the bill 😉
Photos of fishing boats, fishing ports, fish auctions, seafood stalls, nets and trawls, lobster pots, fishermen, your kids collecting cockles, even those New Year’s oyster shells 😏—no limits as long as it ties into the theme 😛 And of course, a special shout-out to anglers worldwide! 🙂
I’m traveling right now, so I don’t have many photos on hand. To illustrate the theme, I’ve chosen this shot of a small Vietnamese fishing boat I spotted near the Cham Islands, returning from a dive.

Contest rules: You can post up to three photos, each in a separate message, clearly numbering them (1, 2, or 3) and including the location where the photo was taken. Any explanations about your photos are welcome.
When voting, you’ll choose three photos, clearly stating the participant’s name followed by their photo number. The first photo in your vote gets three points, the second gets two, and the third gets one.
The winner will be the person whose photo earns the most points. In case of a tie, the winner will be the one with the most first-place votes, or if still tied, the most second-place votes. If it’s a perfect tie, the person who reached their score first wins. The winner then gets the honor of choosing and organizing May 2026’s contest theme. Ties for any other position won’t be broken. Finally, you don’t need to enter the contest to vote, but participants (and I hope there’ll be lots of you!) are *strongly* encouraged to vote!
Please only post contest photos in this thread. Starting Saturday, April 25 (00:01 Paris time), only votes should be posted.
Key dates: You can submit your photos from today until Friday, April 24, 2026 (23:59 Paris time—Xavier, you can do the math for Perth 😏). Voting starts the very next minute and ends on Thursday, April 29 (23:59 Paris time). Results will be announced on Thursday, April 30, 2026... The next host can take over on Saturday, May 2 (yeah, May 1 is a no-work day 😛)
Ready, set, shoot!
Since it’s April Fools’ month and I’m a diver at heart, I had to pick a theme around the sea and fish.
This month’s theme is: sea fishing 🙂. Deep-sea fishing, rockpooling, shore casting, shellfish & crustaceans—anything remotely related to sea fishing fits the bill 😉
Photos of fishing boats, fishing ports, fish auctions, seafood stalls, nets and trawls, lobster pots, fishermen, your kids collecting cockles, even those New Year’s oyster shells 😏—no limits as long as it ties into the theme 😛 And of course, a special shout-out to anglers worldwide! 🙂
I’m traveling right now, so I don’t have many photos on hand. To illustrate the theme, I’ve chosen this shot of a small Vietnamese fishing boat I spotted near the Cham Islands, returning from a dive.

Contest rules: You can post up to three photos, each in a separate message, clearly numbering them (1, 2, or 3) and including the location where the photo was taken. Any explanations about your photos are welcome.
When voting, you’ll choose three photos, clearly stating the participant’s name followed by their photo number. The first photo in your vote gets three points, the second gets two, and the third gets one.
The winner will be the person whose photo earns the most points. In case of a tie, the winner will be the one with the most first-place votes, or if still tied, the most second-place votes. If it’s a perfect tie, the person who reached their score first wins. The winner then gets the honor of choosing and organizing May 2026’s contest theme. Ties for any other position won’t be broken. Finally, you don’t need to enter the contest to vote, but participants (and I hope there’ll be lots of you!) are *strongly* encouraged to vote!
Please only post contest photos in this thread. Starting Saturday, April 25 (00:01 Paris time), only votes should be posted.
Key dates: You can submit your photos from today until Friday, April 24, 2026 (23:59 Paris time—Xavier, you can do the math for Perth 😏). Voting starts the very next minute and ends on Thursday, April 29 (23:59 Paris time). Results will be announced on Thursday, April 30, 2026... The next host can take over on Saturday, May 2 (yeah, May 1 is a no-work day 😛)
Ready, set, shoot!
A Brief A to Z of Peru
Foreword
This text has been proofread many times.
Sorry if some points in this A to Z have already been covered on this forum.
Text and drawings by the author.
Peru is still a very vast country, with so much to see, and obviously this text can't list all the attractions of the country.
*Abiseo (River) A national park that's very hard to access and doesn’t seem open to visitors. Includes the Gran Pajaten site (see below). Personally, it really sparks my imagination (not visited personally)
*Aguas Calientes the town next to Machu Picchu, more precisely below the archaeological site. As far as I know, you can only get there by train. Reminds me of the market where stalls line both sides of the tracks near Bangkok. I love it
*Altiplano: somewhere the "heart" of the Andes. I was able to trek across it on foot, starting from Caracollo in Bolivia, and of course, it’s vast plains to explore. This is where people live in a very rural way. Andean populations are quite austere compared to those in the lowlands or on the coast. You really have to appreciate the harshness of life to live there. Life is anything but superficial. I set a compass heading and found myself walking west toward the expanse of water near a place called La Joya. For pitching the tent, the nights were still chilly
*Canyon del Colca One of the deepest canyons in the world. Personally, I hiked down and back up on foot. The toughest stretch I’ve ever covered in my life.
*Ceviche More or less the national dish. A marinade of fish, shellfish, and lime. But you can find it in some restaurants in Europe, France, and certainly in Belgium or Switzerland. In the small restaurants of Pisco, you can eat excellent ceviche
*Cerro Sechín: Mostly bas-reliefs. A site little known to travelers in the Casma province. The first vestiges of a pre-Inca civilization with iconography similar to that of Chavín (not visited personally)
*Chan Chan A large city of the Chimú civilization and relatively vast to visit. You can see adobe walls with bas-reliefs. Visit from Trujillo, take a colectivo. Plan for the whole day
*Charango: a small guitar widely used in Andean music
*Chauchilla A necropolis near Nazca where you can see mummies exposed on the ground. YouTubers can do paranormal experiments there. And for anyone wondering about the fate of the soul and body after death, here’s the answer: the body remains after death. You can imagine your own flesh and body exposed to the winds of the Pampa and before eternity... (not visited personally)

*Chavín de Huántar (Lanzón) The site’s appeal lies in its mountainous surroundings, the Lanzón stela, and the sculpted heads on the façades. What few people know is that the Chavín civilization began its expansion centuries before the Incas. Unfortunately, you can’t get too close to see the Lanzón—the day I was there, it was protected by grilles. To get there: minibus from Huaraz or trek from Olleros. Then cross a high pass (over 5,000m). If you do it solo on foot, be careful—the path isn’t obvious from Olleros
*Chullpa: funerary tower, notably at Sillustani in the Lake Titicaca region
*Chimú: pre-Inca civilization whose center was Chan Chan.
*Chola/Cholitas (Bolivia): typical clothing style of women from the Andean plateaus

*Chompa: pronounce it *Chompaaa!* A common term for a wool sweater with vicuña patterns, often knitted from alpaca wool. If you dress like this, it’s a bit kitschy around the edges
*Cuy That one isn’t a guinea pig like in Guyana but an actual guinea pig. During a trip to Peru, I was hiking near a village north of Quillabamba (the terminus of the train line that passes through Aguas Calientes), and I was invited to stay in a house. The family raised a few of these pets. Apparently, the locals eat them. Since I’m not much of a meat-eater, it doesn’t really tempt me. How about you?
*Pacific Coast or how to talk about a place you haven’t visited? Except for the coast near Pisco and San Andrés, I haven’t visited any coastal cities. But that doesn’t mean these places lack interest or poetry. For fans of clichéd images, pelicans, seabirds, and fishing boats appear by the sea.
*Gran Pajaten: also closed to the public. Features anthropomorphic bas-reliefs. (not visited personally)
*Huaca. Visit the Huaca del Sol and Huaca de la Luna, especially near Trujillo. However, you can skip them—Chan Chan is still more interesting. Don’t forget to spend time visiting Chan Chan
*Huacachina A small oasis in the desert near Ica. Yes, we’re talking about an oasis because for those who’ve never traveled to Peru, the coastal strip along the Pacific is almost entirely desert, from north to south. Peru is territorially made up of three different regions: the desert coast, the Altiplano stretching north to south with mountain ranges (the Cordilleras), and the Amazon basin to the east. (not visited personally)
*Inca Kola It’s neither Coca-Cola nor Pepsi but a unique cola with a slightly orange color. Tastes like bubble gum
*Intiwatana: a carved rock shaped like a parallelepiped. Is it a sundial?
*Ballestas Islands: a highlight in Peru, though very touristy. You can only get there by boat from the port of San Andrés, a few kilometers from Pisco. It’s a surreal place to me—actually islets with cavities where sea lions and fur seals live. Since it’s a protected area, you’re not allowed to disembark. Guano is harvested there, which can be used as fertilizer.
*Kuelap: a fortress built by the Chachapoyas people. Rarely visited by travelers. (not visited personally)
*Larco Museum: an iconic museum in Lima with a large collection of pieces from archaeological and pre-Columbian sites. From what I remember, it has many pieces from the Moche civilization. As for the Moche statuettes, the prudish might look away. Probably a veneration of the god Priapus without knowing it.
*Nazca Lines Discovered by German archaeologist Maria Reiche, they stretch for kilometers. The designs in the desert around Nazca depict animals and cabalistic signs. The question I ask myself is why the creators of these lines represented a monkey and a hummingbird—species endemic to the tropical forest, not the desert plains around Nazca.
*Machu Picchu: means "old mountain" in Quechua. There’s also Wayna Picchu. The ruins of the site emerge from a sort of small plateau above Aguas Calientes. When the mist rises above the site and the bend of the Urubamba River, it’s truly magical... Also the starting point of the Inca Trail.

*Coca tea A decoction/infusion of the coca plant, meant to ease altitude sickness or *soroche*
*Chullo A rough translation would be a Peruvian wool hat.
*Moche: a civilization established in the Moche Valley, hence the term *Mochica*. What characterizes this civilization are the distinctive clay pieces representing faces and erotic statuettes
*Papa a la Huancaína A local potato dish
*Pisac: a typical market near Cusco
*Pisco Sour: perhaps the Peruvian equivalent of the *caipirinha* you drink in Brazil.
*Puya Raimondii A Bromeliaceae that still looks like a cactus, endemic to the Altiplano
*Quechua The language spoken by the indigenous people of the high plateaus (as well as Aymara in Bolivia)
*Quipu A knotted string used for counting. Widely used by the Inca administration.
*Sacsayhuamán (Q’enqo, Inca Bath) From Cusco’s Plaza de Armas, take the streets that climb above the city. Sacsayhuamán is called a fortress and is made up of large stone blocks. You wonder how the Incas could cut such huge blocks to assemble them—just like some streets in Cusco. The Q’enqo block is enigmatic; no one really knows what it represents.
*Savia Andina An Andean folk group.
*Tambo (=> Ollantaytambo) The Inca emperor (Atahualpa, Manco Capac) had the mission of controlling a vast empire. An empire that was still very extensive. Hence the importance of these *tambos* or relay stations. Napoleon created the civil code; the Incas invented the *tambos* and *quipus*.
*Tawantinsuyu: the Inca Empire
*Tinku: a warrior dance practiced mainly in Bolivia
*Golden Tumi: a sacrificial weapon. Often featured in Peru travel guides. See illustration

*Terra X: a documentary series from the German TV channel that aired on Arte. Some episodes focused on pre-Inca and Inca Peru. I must have some old recording tapes. In memory of Gottfried Kirchner as a source of inspiration.
*Uros: I checked—it actually refers to the people who live on these floating islands. Even if it’s touristy, it’s a must-visit because it’s incredible how people can live on islets made from nothing. Take the boat from Puno
*Vicuña, llama, guanaco: camelids characteristic of the Altiplano

*Wayna Picchu The young Picchu mountain. In the first minutes of *Aguirre, the Wrath of God*, you see Klaus Kinski—well, Aguirre—making his way along the Inca Trail. Werner Herzog must have broken his back filming those sequences.
*Zampoña: pan flute
Peru is still a very vast country, with so much to see, and obviously this text can't list all the attractions of the country.
*Abiseo (River) A national park that's very hard to access and doesn’t seem open to visitors. Includes the Gran Pajaten site (see below). Personally, it really sparks my imagination (not visited personally)
*Aguas Calientes the town next to Machu Picchu, more precisely below the archaeological site. As far as I know, you can only get there by train. Reminds me of the market where stalls line both sides of the tracks near Bangkok. I love it
*Altiplano: somewhere the "heart" of the Andes. I was able to trek across it on foot, starting from Caracollo in Bolivia, and of course, it’s vast plains to explore. This is where people live in a very rural way. Andean populations are quite austere compared to those in the lowlands or on the coast. You really have to appreciate the harshness of life to live there. Life is anything but superficial. I set a compass heading and found myself walking west toward the expanse of water near a place called La Joya. For pitching the tent, the nights were still chilly
*Canyon del Colca One of the deepest canyons in the world. Personally, I hiked down and back up on foot. The toughest stretch I’ve ever covered in my life.
*Ceviche More or less the national dish. A marinade of fish, shellfish, and lime. But you can find it in some restaurants in Europe, France, and certainly in Belgium or Switzerland. In the small restaurants of Pisco, you can eat excellent ceviche
*Cerro Sechín: Mostly bas-reliefs. A site little known to travelers in the Casma province. The first vestiges of a pre-Inca civilization with iconography similar to that of Chavín (not visited personally)
*Chan Chan A large city of the Chimú civilization and relatively vast to visit. You can see adobe walls with bas-reliefs. Visit from Trujillo, take a colectivo. Plan for the whole day
*Charango: a small guitar widely used in Andean music
*Chauchilla A necropolis near Nazca where you can see mummies exposed on the ground. YouTubers can do paranormal experiments there. And for anyone wondering about the fate of the soul and body after death, here’s the answer: the body remains after death. You can imagine your own flesh and body exposed to the winds of the Pampa and before eternity... (not visited personally)

*Chavín de Huántar (Lanzón) The site’s appeal lies in its mountainous surroundings, the Lanzón stela, and the sculpted heads on the façades. What few people know is that the Chavín civilization began its expansion centuries before the Incas. Unfortunately, you can’t get too close to see the Lanzón—the day I was there, it was protected by grilles. To get there: minibus from Huaraz or trek from Olleros. Then cross a high pass (over 5,000m). If you do it solo on foot, be careful—the path isn’t obvious from Olleros
*Chullpa: funerary tower, notably at Sillustani in the Lake Titicaca region
*Chimú: pre-Inca civilization whose center was Chan Chan.
*Chola/Cholitas (Bolivia): typical clothing style of women from the Andean plateaus

*Chompa: pronounce it *Chompaaa!* A common term for a wool sweater with vicuña patterns, often knitted from alpaca wool. If you dress like this, it’s a bit kitschy around the edges
*Cuy That one isn’t a guinea pig like in Guyana but an actual guinea pig. During a trip to Peru, I was hiking near a village north of Quillabamba (the terminus of the train line that passes through Aguas Calientes), and I was invited to stay in a house. The family raised a few of these pets. Apparently, the locals eat them. Since I’m not much of a meat-eater, it doesn’t really tempt me. How about you?
*Pacific Coast or how to talk about a place you haven’t visited? Except for the coast near Pisco and San Andrés, I haven’t visited any coastal cities. But that doesn’t mean these places lack interest or poetry. For fans of clichéd images, pelicans, seabirds, and fishing boats appear by the sea.
*Gran Pajaten: also closed to the public. Features anthropomorphic bas-reliefs. (not visited personally)
*Huaca. Visit the Huaca del Sol and Huaca de la Luna, especially near Trujillo. However, you can skip them—Chan Chan is still more interesting. Don’t forget to spend time visiting Chan Chan
*Huacachina A small oasis in the desert near Ica. Yes, we’re talking about an oasis because for those who’ve never traveled to Peru, the coastal strip along the Pacific is almost entirely desert, from north to south. Peru is territorially made up of three different regions: the desert coast, the Altiplano stretching north to south with mountain ranges (the Cordilleras), and the Amazon basin to the east. (not visited personally)
*Inca Kola It’s neither Coca-Cola nor Pepsi but a unique cola with a slightly orange color. Tastes like bubble gum
*Intiwatana: a carved rock shaped like a parallelepiped. Is it a sundial?
*Ballestas Islands: a highlight in Peru, though very touristy. You can only get there by boat from the port of San Andrés, a few kilometers from Pisco. It’s a surreal place to me—actually islets with cavities where sea lions and fur seals live. Since it’s a protected area, you’re not allowed to disembark. Guano is harvested there, which can be used as fertilizer.
*Kuelap: a fortress built by the Chachapoyas people. Rarely visited by travelers. (not visited personally)
*Larco Museum: an iconic museum in Lima with a large collection of pieces from archaeological and pre-Columbian sites. From what I remember, it has many pieces from the Moche civilization. As for the Moche statuettes, the prudish might look away. Probably a veneration of the god Priapus without knowing it.
*Nazca Lines Discovered by German archaeologist Maria Reiche, they stretch for kilometers. The designs in the desert around Nazca depict animals and cabalistic signs. The question I ask myself is why the creators of these lines represented a monkey and a hummingbird—species endemic to the tropical forest, not the desert plains around Nazca.
*Machu Picchu: means "old mountain" in Quechua. There’s also Wayna Picchu. The ruins of the site emerge from a sort of small plateau above Aguas Calientes. When the mist rises above the site and the bend of the Urubamba River, it’s truly magical... Also the starting point of the Inca Trail.

*Coca tea A decoction/infusion of the coca plant, meant to ease altitude sickness or *soroche*
*Chullo A rough translation would be a Peruvian wool hat.
*Moche: a civilization established in the Moche Valley, hence the term *Mochica*. What characterizes this civilization are the distinctive clay pieces representing faces and erotic statuettes
*Papa a la Huancaína A local potato dish
*Pisac: a typical market near Cusco
*Pisco Sour: perhaps the Peruvian equivalent of the *caipirinha* you drink in Brazil.
*Puya Raimondii A Bromeliaceae that still looks like a cactus, endemic to the Altiplano
*Quechua The language spoken by the indigenous people of the high plateaus (as well as Aymara in Bolivia)
*Quipu A knotted string used for counting. Widely used by the Inca administration.
*Sacsayhuamán (Q’enqo, Inca Bath) From Cusco’s Plaza de Armas, take the streets that climb above the city. Sacsayhuamán is called a fortress and is made up of large stone blocks. You wonder how the Incas could cut such huge blocks to assemble them—just like some streets in Cusco. The Q’enqo block is enigmatic; no one really knows what it represents.
*Savia Andina An Andean folk group.
*Tambo (=> Ollantaytambo) The Inca emperor (Atahualpa, Manco Capac) had the mission of controlling a vast empire. An empire that was still very extensive. Hence the importance of these *tambos* or relay stations. Napoleon created the civil code; the Incas invented the *tambos* and *quipus*.
*Tawantinsuyu: the Inca Empire
*Tinku: a warrior dance practiced mainly in Bolivia
*Golden Tumi: a sacrificial weapon. Often featured in Peru travel guides. See illustration

*Terra X: a documentary series from the German TV channel that aired on Arte. Some episodes focused on pre-Inca and Inca Peru. I must have some old recording tapes. In memory of Gottfried Kirchner as a source of inspiration.
*Uros: I checked—it actually refers to the people who live on these floating islands. Even if it’s touristy, it’s a must-visit because it’s incredible how people can live on islets made from nothing. Take the boat from Puno
*Vicuña, llama, guanaco: camelids characteristic of the Altiplano

*Wayna Picchu The young Picchu mountain. In the first minutes of *Aguirre, the Wrath of God*, you see Klaus Kinski—well, Aguirre—making his way along the Inca Trail. Werner Herzog must have broken his back filming those sequences.
*Zampoña: pan flute
From Mexico to the Wonderful Chiapas

This one-month trip, from January 18 to February 17, 2026, allowed us to visit Mexico City and travel through the states of Puebla, Oaxaca, and Chiapas. We mainly used buses (ADO company) for medium and long distances and colectivos or taxis (or Uber) for shorter trips. Before leaving, I had contacted several people on the ground: Harry, a Vendéan settled in Oaxaca offering, among other things, discoveries of artisan villages or the Monte Albán site, and Oscar in Comitán de Domínguez. I’ll come back to our meeting with Oscar, who runs a local agency (CVL Travel Turismo Alternativo & Corre la voz) and owns a very pleasant hostel, a real highlight of our trip. Our journey took place in 8 stages on a loop starting from Mexico City. The connections between each were made by day or night buses depending on the trip duration. I had booked our seats in advance, either directly on the ADO company’s website or through booking platforms depending on the rates offered. Note that by planning ahead, I was able to benefit from very interesting "Early Booking" rates. There are several comfort classes. For all our trips, I had booked seats in Primera class buses, except for two in GL (Grand Luxe) class. The rates are very reasonable, and the buses turned out to be comfortable or even very comfortable (only the basic seat recline might surprise you).
Our itinerary and number of days per stage: Stage 1 – Mexico City: 4 days Stage 2 – Puebla: 2 days Stage 3 – Oaxaca: 4 days Stage 4 – San Agustinillo: 4 days Stage 5 – San Cristóbal de las Casas: 3 days Stage 6 – Comitán de Domínguez: 6 days Stage 7 – Palenque: 4 days Stage 8 – Mexico City: 2 days If I were to do it again, I’d remove one day from Palenque and add it either to Puebla or San Cristóbal to visit nearby sites or villages, or to San Agustinillo to enjoy one more day by the Pacific Ocean.
Stage 1: Mexico City (2,200 m / 9.2 million inhabitants) We arrived in the Mexican capital around 10:00 PM. The simplified customs process was very quick. After exchanging some money at the airport, we took a taxi to our youth hostel. We got around the capital on foot, of course, but also by metro. Signs are very rare, and we took the train in the wrong direction several times. After a few mistakes, we systematically asked on the platform if we were going the right way. The metro is very affordable. You need to get a rechargeable card (the Tarjeta de Movilidad Integrada) and top it up as needed. This card (less than 1 €) isn’t personal, so there’s no need to get one per person.
Mexico City: Day 1.

Visits and walks of the day (note: many museums are closed on Mondays): The Zócalo or Constitution Square: it’s one of the most beautiful, largest (195m x 240m), and oldest squares in the world. This is where Cortés decided to build the center of the new Spanish city on the site of the former Tenochtitlan market. Stones from the pyramids were used to pave the esplanade and build the surrounding colonial churches and buildings. During our visit, the huge square was covered with (resin) cacti, the theme of the temporary exhibition at the time. Indeed, temporary events or exhibitions take place here throughout the year. It’s also the endpoint for many protest marches.





The cathedral: it’s sinking by one centimeter per year despite massive stabilization work (the collapse of many Mexican buildings—30 cm/year—is due to groundwater pumping). It was built starting in 1571 and completed in... 1813. The modest remains of the Templo Mayor (exterior view): they have high symbolic value, as this monument was the most important in the Mexica Empire.
We then walked through the streets of the historic center to the Santísima Church, unfortunately closed for renovation work.
Next, we took the metro to visit one of Mexico’s most important pilgrimage sites: the Insigne y Nacional Basílicas de Santa María de Guadalupe, as well as the Capilla del Cerrito on the hill.
The first, dating from the colonial era, is really leaning a lot.
The second, shaped like a rotunda, is very impressive from the inside.

In the basement, there’s a sacred tunic where, in 1531, an image of the Virgin Mary is said to have appeared. A real mystery for scientists, the garment has never deteriorated since that date. Slow-moving conveyor belts allow pilgrims to admire it, preventing crowds from gathering in front of the image for hours. Well thought out!
From the top of the Capilla del Cerrito, you get beautiful views of huge Mexico City.
March 2026 Photo Contest Theme: Metal, Metallic
The 139th edition of this contest is now open, and this month’s theme is:
« Metal, Metallic».
From ore to rockets, wire to the Eiffel Tower—or in a pinch, even a self-portrait at the bottom of a spoon—the theme is broad enough that you should be able to come up with at least three ideas pretty easily! Sure, things might get tricky when it’s time to vote, but that could just be a sign of a successful contest, right?! But we’re not there yet.
Contest rules: You can post up to three photos, each in a separate message, clearly indicating their number (1, 2, or 3) along with the location where the photo was taken. Any explanations about your photos are welcome.
You’ll vote for three photos, clearly stating the name of the participant you’ve chosen, followed by the photo number. The first photo in your vote will receive three points, the second two points, and the third one point.
The winner will be the person whose photo earns the most points. In case of a tie, the winner will be the one with the most first-place votes—or, if still tied, the most second-place votes. Finally, if it’s a perfect tie, the winner will be the one who reached their score first. The winner will then have the pleasure of choosing the theme for the April 2026 contest and organizing it. Ties for any position other than first won’t be broken. Lastly, you don’t need to participate in the contest to vote. However, participants (and I hope there’ll be lots of you!) are strongly encouraged to vote!
Please only post contest photos in this thread, and starting Thursday, March 26 (00:01 Paris time), only votes.
Key dates: You can submit your photos starting today, Tuesday, March 3, 2026, until Wednesday, March 25, 2026 (23:59 Paris time). Voting will begin the minute after and end on Monday, March 30 (23:59 Paris time). Results will be announced on Tuesday, March 31, 2026 ... if all goes well!
A discussion thread for this contest is open HERE: The photorama can be found HERE
From ore to rockets, wire to the Eiffel Tower—or in a pinch, even a self-portrait at the bottom of a spoon—the theme is broad enough that you should be able to come up with at least three ideas pretty easily! Sure, things might get tricky when it’s time to vote, but that could just be a sign of a successful contest, right?! But we’re not there yet.
Contest rules: You can post up to three photos, each in a separate message, clearly indicating their number (1, 2, or 3) along with the location where the photo was taken. Any explanations about your photos are welcome.
You’ll vote for three photos, clearly stating the name of the participant you’ve chosen, followed by the photo number. The first photo in your vote will receive three points, the second two points, and the third one point.
The winner will be the person whose photo earns the most points. In case of a tie, the winner will be the one with the most first-place votes—or, if still tied, the most second-place votes. Finally, if it’s a perfect tie, the winner will be the one who reached their score first. The winner will then have the pleasure of choosing the theme for the April 2026 contest and organizing it. Ties for any position other than first won’t be broken. Lastly, you don’t need to participate in the contest to vote. However, participants (and I hope there’ll be lots of you!) are strongly encouraged to vote!
Please only post contest photos in this thread, and starting Thursday, March 26 (00:01 Paris time), only votes.
Key dates: You can submit your photos starting today, Tuesday, March 3, 2026, until Wednesday, March 25, 2026 (23:59 Paris time). Voting will begin the minute after and end on Monday, March 30 (23:59 Paris time). Results will be announced on Tuesday, March 31, 2026 ... if all goes well!
A discussion thread for this contest is open HERE: The photorama can be found HERE
Tunisian Impressions (Live)
Hi there,
I arrived in Tunisia this afternoon for a full 14-day stay.
I took a direct Tunisair flight from Nice, which departed about thirty minutes late (that’s nothing compared to the "nightmares" I’ve had on some of my recent trips).
The flight lasts around 1 hour and 20 minutes, and a small snack was served on board (a sort of quiche with chickpea purée, a small bread roll, a portion of cheese like La Vache qui rit, and a small chocolate cake). It’s worth mentioning because it’s becoming increasingly rare on short flights. I was seated between two Tunisian gentlemen who gave me some great tips for my trip, especially about negotiating prices. One of them is a former cameraman for France Télévisions, very cultured and well-traveled—his daughter is a journalist at France Télévisions (I found some of her articles online). In short, the flight was very pleasant and quick.

I’m staying at the Hôtel Royal Victoria. I booked it yesterday afternoon by email without providing my credit card number. The room costs 241 TND (71 €) with breakfast included. It has heating, a small fridge, a safe, a hairdryer, Wi-Fi, and a TV with international channels. There’s a police van permanently parked in the square where the hotel is located.
This hotel is housed in the former British consulate and later embassy. It has a lot of charm with its painted wood ceilings and doors, and its bathroom covered in ceramic tiles. The tiny elevator is from another era. The main advantage of the hotel is its location between the medina and Avenue Bourguiba. Nearby, there’s the Magasin Général, where you can find groceries and some typical products like rose water, geranium water, and tons of halwa (a customer kindly explained how to eat it and which is the best).
After nightfall, I took a short stroll down Avenue Bourguiba. There weren’t many people around—it’s windy and cold.
I’ve already noticed the warm welcome from Tunisians. The supermarket cashier welcomed me to Tunisia, and a gentleman I asked for directions to the Magasin Général (I was about to climb stairs leading to a mosque!) insisted on inviting me for coffee, but I declined.
The rest of my itinerary will depend on the weather. If it doesn’t rain tomorrow, I might visit Carthage since the Bardo Museum is closed on Mondays, as are the museums in Sidi Bou Said.
TO BE CONTINUED...

I arrived in Tunisia this afternoon for a full 14-day stay.
I took a direct Tunisair flight from Nice, which departed about thirty minutes late (that’s nothing compared to the "nightmares" I’ve had on some of my recent trips).
The flight lasts around 1 hour and 20 minutes, and a small snack was served on board (a sort of quiche with chickpea purée, a small bread roll, a portion of cheese like La Vache qui rit, and a small chocolate cake). It’s worth mentioning because it’s becoming increasingly rare on short flights. I was seated between two Tunisian gentlemen who gave me some great tips for my trip, especially about negotiating prices. One of them is a former cameraman for France Télévisions, very cultured and well-traveled—his daughter is a journalist at France Télévisions (I found some of her articles online). In short, the flight was very pleasant and quick.

I’m staying at the Hôtel Royal Victoria. I booked it yesterday afternoon by email without providing my credit card number. The room costs 241 TND (71 €) with breakfast included. It has heating, a small fridge, a safe, a hairdryer, Wi-Fi, and a TV with international channels. There’s a police van permanently parked in the square where the hotel is located.
This hotel is housed in the former British consulate and later embassy. It has a lot of charm with its painted wood ceilings and doors, and its bathroom covered in ceramic tiles. The tiny elevator is from another era. The main advantage of the hotel is its location between the medina and Avenue Bourguiba. Nearby, there’s the Magasin Général, where you can find groceries and some typical products like rose water, geranium water, and tons of halwa (a customer kindly explained how to eat it and which is the best).
After nightfall, I took a short stroll down Avenue Bourguiba. There weren’t many people around—it’s windy and cold.
I’ve already noticed the warm welcome from Tunisians. The supermarket cashier welcomed me to Tunisia, and a gentleman I asked for directions to the Magasin Général (I was about to climb stairs leading to a mosque!) insisted on inviting me for coffee, but I declined.
The rest of my itinerary will depend on the weather. If it doesn’t rain tomorrow, I might visit Carthage since the Bardo Museum is closed on Mondays, as are the museums in Sidi Bou Said.
TO BE CONTINUED...

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.
Nepal Feedback
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.
Kattegat Tour and Norway’s Majestic Fjords – 32 Days (Denmark, Sweden, Norway)
Kattegat isn’t just the name of the village in the TV series *Vikings*—it’s also the stretch of water separating Denmark from Sweden... the sea, basically! And further north, you’ve got Norway and its fjords!
Originally, I’d planned to just do a loop around Kattegat, with the *Under* restaurant in Lindesnes as our anniversary treat... but along the way, we thought, why not "push" a little further north, keeping an eye on the budget since we’d chosen to travel by car in June 2025 through Scandinavia.

Why by car when most travelers opt for a camper van, while others prefer the comfort of cruises? Well, because we don’t own a camper van, renting one is pricey, and then you’ve got to add fuel costs (those things guzzle gas!), ferry fees, and other "tolls." All things considered, we went for mostly rentals—especially since there were four of us at the start of the trip. We spent the first week in Denmark with our daughter and son-in-law. Then they flew back to Belgium, and we continued our adventure as a couple. For accommodation, we mainly booked Airbnb apartments, which helped keep costs down and, most importantly, let us prepare our own meals (diet, diet!). In this travel journal, you’ll discover (or rediscover, for those who followed my older ones) our unbridled love for theme parks, museums, unique experiences, and—especially in Denmark—Legos! Unfortunately, we didn’t do any hikes this year because the unpredictable weather had made the trails slippery, and since I’d already taken three tumbles during the trip, I didn’t want to risk another! In the end, we traveled for 32 days, covered 6,200 km, and most importantly, discovered the charming country of Denmark, marveled at Norway’s breathtaking fjords—all without suffering the heatwave that hit France and Belgium that June! If you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!

Why by car when most travelers opt for a camper van, while others prefer the comfort of cruises? Well, because we don’t own a camper van, renting one is pricey, and then you’ve got to add fuel costs (those things guzzle gas!), ferry fees, and other "tolls." All things considered, we went for mostly rentals—especially since there were four of us at the start of the trip. We spent the first week in Denmark with our daughter and son-in-law. Then they flew back to Belgium, and we continued our adventure as a couple. For accommodation, we mainly booked Airbnb apartments, which helped keep costs down and, most importantly, let us prepare our own meals (diet, diet!). In this travel journal, you’ll discover (or rediscover, for those who followed my older ones) our unbridled love for theme parks, museums, unique experiences, and—especially in Denmark—Legos! Unfortunately, we didn’t do any hikes this year because the unpredictable weather had made the trails slippery, and since I’d already taken three tumbles during the trip, I didn’t want to risk another! In the end, we traveled for 32 days, covered 6,200 km, and most importantly, discovered the charming country of Denmark, marveled at Norway’s breathtaking fjords—all without suffering the heatwave that hit France and Belgium that June! If you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!

2 weeks in the Cyclades
Hi everyone!
Blue skies (lots of them), whitewashed villages with steep alleyways, hundreds of churches, and... thousands of stairs? Welcome to the Cyclades! 🙂
We’d been dreaming about this for a while, but in July-August—with the crowds—no way! Now that I can travel outside school holidays, the Cyclades are back on the agenda. And so begins a loooong period of planning and second-guessing, with countless itinerary changes: the Cyclades, yes, but which ones? I was fixated on Folegandros (we won’t be going after all) and really wanted to visit Delos. So, for this first trip, it’ll be: Mykonos (and Delos)-Naxos-Amorgos-Santorini.
Saturday 24/05: Departure from Orly on a Transavia flight, arriving in Mykonos in the late afternoon. We found a hotel that offers free transfers (pretty rare and not insignificant—it’s 25 € each way for just a few kilometers 😠) and at a reasonable price (83 € per night for B&B). Time for dinner already: Greek salad and souvlaki (we’re in Greece, right?)
(Okay, this is actually a dakos with Naxos cheese, but I don’t have a photo of a Greek salad 😏).
Blue skies (lots of them), whitewashed villages with steep alleyways, hundreds of churches, and... thousands of stairs? Welcome to the Cyclades! 🙂
We’d been dreaming about this for a while, but in July-August—with the crowds—no way! Now that I can travel outside school holidays, the Cyclades are back on the agenda. And so begins a loooong period of planning and second-guessing, with countless itinerary changes: the Cyclades, yes, but which ones? I was fixated on Folegandros (we won’t be going after all) and really wanted to visit Delos. So, for this first trip, it’ll be: Mykonos (and Delos)-Naxos-Amorgos-Santorini.
Saturday 24/05: Departure from Orly on a Transavia flight, arriving in Mykonos in the late afternoon. We found a hotel that offers free transfers (pretty rare and not insignificant—it’s 25 € each way for just a few kilometers 😠) and at a reasonable price (83 € per night for B&B). Time for dinner already: Greek salad and souvlaki (we’re in Greece, right?)
(Okay, this is actually a dakos with Naxos cheese, but I don’t have a photo of a Greek salad 😏).Uzbekistan - Finally made it - Summer 2022
Another trip planned during Covid. Actually, for 2020, I had three trips booked, with tickets purchased and everything.
This one to Uzbekistan was planned for April 2020. We postponed it to April 2021, but it was canceled again, and we couldn’t reschedule for April 2022 because our friends who were coming with us were busy. So, we chose summer, knowing the temperatures would likely be very high.
We left as a group of five: a couple we usually travel with and one of their friends, whom I knew. She was traveling alone and had dreamed of this trip but didn’t want to go by herself.
For organization, we went through an agency to handle the train tickets and our trip to the Aral Sea. It’s not my usual style, but back in 2020, we were already in touch with them, and they were very understanding during the two cancellations. It wasn’t easy, given the economic crisis Covid caused, especially in Uzbekistan.
Again, I’m writing this travel journal from memory since I didn’t take any notes. (It’s good to give your brain a workout now and then!)
Day 1: Off to Tashkent
We flew in the afternoon to Istanbul, had a 2-hour-15-minute layover in Turkey, and then took an overnight flight to arrive early in the morning in Tashkent. Problem (again): just before taking off from Saint-Exupéry, the plane had an issue with the landing gear. We waited two hours, and after a few hammer and wrench adjustments, we finally took off. Of course, by the time we arrived in Istanbul, it was a mad dash through the airport to catch our connecting flight. We landed at 7:30 AM in Tashkent, and of the five suitcases in our little group, two were missing (one of ours and the solo traveler’s). Big problem because we were leaving at 2:30 PM by train for the Aral Sea, and we wouldn’t be near an airport again for three days. Plus, at the small airport in the Uzbek capital, no one spoke English (or French, or the Ardèche dialect). Fortunately, we had booked a guide for a quick morning tour of the capital. We had seven hours to kill, and it seemed smart to do it this way (and yes, sometimes we do think ahead). With him speaking English and, more importantly, Uzbek, the delivery of our suitcases was arranged.
So, we set off to explore the capital. It’s very Soviet in design—wide avenues and ugly buildings.
We visited the Khasti Imam historical complex (first name to pronounce at your own risk—there will be plenty more during the trip). Lots of "oohs" and "aahs" about how beautiful it was, but in the end, compared to what we saw later, it was really just small potatoes.
We checked out Chorsu Bazaar, the city’s large covered market. The guide was friendly and gave us plenty of tips for the rest of the trip. He suggested a restaurant, which we accepted, so we could get familiar with local customs. The good thing was, it didn’t seem like a tourist trap.
Next, we headed to the train station because our train was at 2:30 PM. The guide left us, and then another problem arose. While going through security, one of the staff made it clear that our train was canceled and our ticket needed to be changed to the train leaving around 8:20 PM. Heatwave moment (it was 38°C). Our issue was that we were supposed to arrive in Nukus (our destination) at 6:00 AM and take a minibus for a round trip to Moynaq and the Aral Sea (four hours each way). The plan was to spend 2-3 hours there and return, so a 10-11-hour timeline. Leaving at 6:00 AM made it doable, but with the train now leaving at 8:20 PM, we’d arrive in Nukus at noon, which messed up the rest of the plan.
I was fuming at the agency (I really don’t like using agencies), so I called the local contact, who quickly sent our guide back (because trying to communicate, change tickets, and get information was tough).
I asked the manager to find us flight tickets to make up for the delay, but nothing—zilch—was possible. We were stuck! My buddy and I were determined to get to Moynaq, but the women in the group were less motivated.
No choice but to board the train for an overnight journey. We had a cabin for two (and our friend had one to herself). Big scare at first—no AC, and it felt like 150°. They told us it would work once the train started moving, which it did. A frugal meal in the dining car (spaghetti with meat—the only dish on offer) and we had a good night’s sleep.
The +: Finally, we’re here! The -: A lot of hassles to start the trip
We left as a group of five: a couple we usually travel with and one of their friends, whom I knew. She was traveling alone and had dreamed of this trip but didn’t want to go by herself.
For organization, we went through an agency to handle the train tickets and our trip to the Aral Sea. It’s not my usual style, but back in 2020, we were already in touch with them, and they were very understanding during the two cancellations. It wasn’t easy, given the economic crisis Covid caused, especially in Uzbekistan.
Again, I’m writing this travel journal from memory since I didn’t take any notes. (It’s good to give your brain a workout now and then!)
Day 1: Off to Tashkent
We flew in the afternoon to Istanbul, had a 2-hour-15-minute layover in Turkey, and then took an overnight flight to arrive early in the morning in Tashkent. Problem (again): just before taking off from Saint-Exupéry, the plane had an issue with the landing gear. We waited two hours, and after a few hammer and wrench adjustments, we finally took off. Of course, by the time we arrived in Istanbul, it was a mad dash through the airport to catch our connecting flight. We landed at 7:30 AM in Tashkent, and of the five suitcases in our little group, two were missing (one of ours and the solo traveler’s). Big problem because we were leaving at 2:30 PM by train for the Aral Sea, and we wouldn’t be near an airport again for three days. Plus, at the small airport in the Uzbek capital, no one spoke English (or French, or the Ardèche dialect). Fortunately, we had booked a guide for a quick morning tour of the capital. We had seven hours to kill, and it seemed smart to do it this way (and yes, sometimes we do think ahead). With him speaking English and, more importantly, Uzbek, the delivery of our suitcases was arranged.
So, we set off to explore the capital. It’s very Soviet in design—wide avenues and ugly buildings.
We visited the Khasti Imam historical complex (first name to pronounce at your own risk—there will be plenty more during the trip). Lots of "oohs" and "aahs" about how beautiful it was, but in the end, compared to what we saw later, it was really just small potatoes.
We checked out Chorsu Bazaar, the city’s large covered market. The guide was friendly and gave us plenty of tips for the rest of the trip. He suggested a restaurant, which we accepted, so we could get familiar with local customs. The good thing was, it didn’t seem like a tourist trap.
Next, we headed to the train station because our train was at 2:30 PM. The guide left us, and then another problem arose. While going through security, one of the staff made it clear that our train was canceled and our ticket needed to be changed to the train leaving around 8:20 PM. Heatwave moment (it was 38°C). Our issue was that we were supposed to arrive in Nukus (our destination) at 6:00 AM and take a minibus for a round trip to Moynaq and the Aral Sea (four hours each way). The plan was to spend 2-3 hours there and return, so a 10-11-hour timeline. Leaving at 6:00 AM made it doable, but with the train now leaving at 8:20 PM, we’d arrive in Nukus at noon, which messed up the rest of the plan.
I was fuming at the agency (I really don’t like using agencies), so I called the local contact, who quickly sent our guide back (because trying to communicate, change tickets, and get information was tough).
I asked the manager to find us flight tickets to make up for the delay, but nothing—zilch—was possible. We were stuck! My buddy and I were determined to get to Moynaq, but the women in the group were less motivated.
No choice but to board the train for an overnight journey. We had a cabin for two (and our friend had one to herself). Big scare at first—no AC, and it felt like 150°. They told us it would work once the train started moving, which it did. A frugal meal in the dining car (spaghetti with meat—the only dish on offer) and we had a good night’s sleep.
The +: Finally, we’re here! The -: A lot of hassles to start the trip
Discovering Assam and Nagaland 2025
Before I begin, I’d like to thank Michèle Buisson and her "Misha’s travel journals," which really helped me plan this trip. It’s tough to find information about this part of India, which is quite different from the "more traditional India." I’m so grateful to her for introducing me to a family who hosted me for 4 nights and 3 days. I can’t wait to return the favor and welcome you all to my place in early July!
Thursday, March 20th. The alarm goes off super early, but I’m already awake—I was too worried I’d sleep through it. I leave the house at 4:00 AM. The rain has stopped, and at this hour, there aren’t many trucks on the road. I arrive at Barcelona Airport easily by 6:20 AM, let the valet know I’m there, and he quickly picks up my car. This time, I’m flying with Etihad Airways again. I booked the ticket during my trip to Cambodia: Barcelona/Kolkata, Delhi/Barcelona for 567 €. At that price, I didn’t hesitate for long—I knew I had to take it. And I’m glad I did because, by the time I returned, the price had gone up to 700 €. I can already hear the reactions: "Wow, how’d you get a ticket for that price? What site did you use? You’re amazing, MarieJo!" One thing’s for sure—I’m really happy with this deal. The flights from Barcelona to Abu Dhabi and Abu Dhabi to Kolkata go smoothly, and we arrive on time at 2:55 AM. There aren’t many people at immigration, so I get through quickly. My luggage isn’t on the carousel yet. After collecting my bag, I check in for my next flight with IndiGo, a 5:40 AM flight to Guwahati, arriving at 7:00 AM. I’m starting to feel pretty tired, so I take a taxi from the airport to Gruham Sojourn Homestay. The house is upstairs, and the neighborhood seems quiet, with restaurants lining the street. The room won’t be ready until 10:00 AM, so I rest on the bench in the meantime. Once in the room, I take a shower—it really helps me feel refreshed. I need to exchange some euros, so I look up a nearby exchange bureau on Google and head out to find it. I locate it easily, and the staff are super friendly. I get a great rate (1 € = 90 INR). I wander around the neighborhood. The train station isn’t far, and small markets line the streets. I head back to my area, walking along the main avenue. About 500 meters from my street, I discover a museum. The visit is fascinating—I see the famous Majuli masks, among other things.

I’m not far from the Brahmaputra River, and the temptation to visit is too strong to resist. I’d hoped to find a promenade along the river, but that doesn’t exist here. I walk back calmly and notice several restaurants in my street. On the doorstep of my accommodation, I spot a pastry shop with cakes that look more like the ones we have in France than the typical ones here in India. A visit is a must, and I’m not disappointed!

Tonight, I’m dining at a restaurant in the street. The menu is a bit disappointing—burgers, pizzas, pasta—nothing very Indian. So, I’ll go with tomato pasta.
Thursday, March 20th. The alarm goes off super early, but I’m already awake—I was too worried I’d sleep through it. I leave the house at 4:00 AM. The rain has stopped, and at this hour, there aren’t many trucks on the road. I arrive at Barcelona Airport easily by 6:20 AM, let the valet know I’m there, and he quickly picks up my car. This time, I’m flying with Etihad Airways again. I booked the ticket during my trip to Cambodia: Barcelona/Kolkata, Delhi/Barcelona for 567 €. At that price, I didn’t hesitate for long—I knew I had to take it. And I’m glad I did because, by the time I returned, the price had gone up to 700 €. I can already hear the reactions: "Wow, how’d you get a ticket for that price? What site did you use? You’re amazing, MarieJo!" One thing’s for sure—I’m really happy with this deal. The flights from Barcelona to Abu Dhabi and Abu Dhabi to Kolkata go smoothly, and we arrive on time at 2:55 AM. There aren’t many people at immigration, so I get through quickly. My luggage isn’t on the carousel yet. After collecting my bag, I check in for my next flight with IndiGo, a 5:40 AM flight to Guwahati, arriving at 7:00 AM. I’m starting to feel pretty tired, so I take a taxi from the airport to Gruham Sojourn Homestay. The house is upstairs, and the neighborhood seems quiet, with restaurants lining the street. The room won’t be ready until 10:00 AM, so I rest on the bench in the meantime. Once in the room, I take a shower—it really helps me feel refreshed. I need to exchange some euros, so I look up a nearby exchange bureau on Google and head out to find it. I locate it easily, and the staff are super friendly. I get a great rate (1 € = 90 INR). I wander around the neighborhood. The train station isn’t far, and small markets line the streets. I head back to my area, walking along the main avenue. About 500 meters from my street, I discover a museum. The visit is fascinating—I see the famous Majuli masks, among other things.


I’m not far from the Brahmaputra River, and the temptation to visit is too strong to resist. I’d hoped to find a promenade along the river, but that doesn’t exist here. I walk back calmly and notice several restaurants in my street. On the doorstep of my accommodation, I spot a pastry shop with cakes that look more like the ones we have in France than the typical ones here in India. A visit is a must, and I’m not disappointed!

Tonight, I’m dining at a restaurant in the street. The menu is a bit disappointing—burgers, pizzas, pasta—nothing very Indian. So, I’ll go with tomato pasta.
From Delhi to Agra and the extraordinary stay in Chhattisgarh
My train to Mathura is at 2 PM, and we’ll arrive an hour late—all good. I booked a hotel on booking, but unfortunately, it’s really far from the ghats. Walking there is out of the question—what a shame.
The hotel itself is fine, and there are several restaurants right across the street, which will be handy for dinner. This won’t be an exception, though—starting at 10 PM, they must wake up because I can hear them talking loudly, and music is playing along. My room faces the entrance, so it’s going to be tough. At midnight, I ask them to lower the volume, but they don’t listen. By 1 AM, I lose my temper, and this time, everything stops. Finally, I can get some sleep—until 4 AM, when they start up again for a little while before quiet returns until 6 AM. But when do they sleep? The noise never seems to bother them—it’s unbelievable, and I’m finding it harder and harder to tolerate. It makes a huge difference.
The next morning, as I leave, they tell me they’ll give me another room for the following night. Oh, two nights like that wouldn’t be possible—I’m exhausted.
I head out to explore the ghats and take a rickshaw, which I share with a family, to Vrindavan, a city of temples dedicated to Krishna. I visit several while wandering through the lively streets, surrounded by a crowd of devotees. By 1 PM, I’m near the Bankey Bihari Temple, but I can’t go in—it just closed. Nearby, there are restaurants, so I take the opportunity to grab my usual aloo paratha with a lassi.


The work women do here is incredibly hard, and their pay must be miserable.

I want to leave Vrindavan for Govardhan. Two young guys on a motorcycle in front of the temple approach me, and the driver offers to take me part of the way. I’m pretty skeptical, but he insists, and I eventually agree. I didn’t fully understand what was happening. Once on the bike, his friend hops on too, and suddenly I’m sandwiched between them for a multi-kilometer ride—*travel Indian-style*. We quickly drop off the friend, and I breathe easier for the rest of the trip. At an intersection, he stops—Govardhan is straight ahead, but to get to his village, he needs to turn right. We wait for the bus for a few minutes, and he flags it down so I can hop on and continue my journey. What an adventure.


the neighbor with its beautiful dome.



The work women do here is incredibly hard, and their pay must be miserable.

I want to leave Vrindavan for Govardhan. Two young guys on a motorcycle in front of the temple approach me, and the driver offers to take me part of the way. I’m pretty skeptical, but he insists, and I eventually agree. I didn’t fully understand what was happening. Once on the bike, his friend hops on too, and suddenly I’m sandwiched between them for a multi-kilometer ride—*travel Indian-style*. We quickly drop off the friend, and I breathe easier for the rest of the trip. At an intersection, he stops—Govardhan is straight ahead, but to get to his village, he needs to turn right. We wait for the bus for a few minutes, and he flags it down so I can hop on and continue my journey. What an adventure.


the neighbor with its beautiful dome.

New Walks from Jodhpur to Narnaul (Feb 24)
I’ve been busy—here’s another travel journal on Rajasthan, with some new discoveries as always.
Thursday, January 25: I left home at 4:30 AM and headed to Barcelona airport. The roads weren’t blocked by farmers yet, so I made the trip without any issues. I arrived at the airport at 7:10 AM, called Parkvia, and someone picked up my car 15 minutes later. All that was left was to check in my luggage. My Etihad flight was at 10:25 AM, which gave me time for breakfast. We landed in Abu Dhabi at 7:30 PM. The flight to Delhi was at 10:15 PM, the transfer went smoothly without any stress, and we arrived in Delhi at 3:00 AM. I couldn’t waste any time upon arrival because I had a flight to Jodhpur at 6:55 AM. I got to customs, and what a nice surprise—the hall was empty. I went through immediately, had my passport and visa checked, and everything was fine. I grabbed my bag quickly and looked for the transfer to T2, which is outside. You have to walk along the taxi parking lot and take the long corridors—it’s well signposted, and the transfer took 10 minutes. At first, I was a little stressed, not knowing how long customs would take, but in the end, I was early for my 6:55 AM flight. I’m even glad I booked this one, as it got me to Jodhpur at 8:20 AM.
When I arrived, I took an auto-rickshaw to Jodhpur Palace GH, which I’d booked on Booking. The welcome was nice, and I was given a room right away. I was hoping to rest a bit, but unfortunately, it was very noisy. I settled in, took a shower, and was ready to go out and explore the city. The owner stopped me as I was leaving and told me I had to change rooms—I had to repack my bag before heading out. He showed me the way to the clock tower, which is about a 15-minute walk away.
A market lines the street leading to the tower, and the traffic is intense.

I set off in search of the stepwells and Gulab Sagar, a large basin with three water jets and a great view of Mehrangarh Fort. And yes, more baoris!

Toorji Ka Jhalra Bawdi isn’t far away. It’s a meet-up spot for tourists, with restaurants and terraces lining the area. The place is nice.


I looked for Mahila Bagh Ka Jhalra, went around in circles a bit, and finally found it right across from Gulab Sagar, where I’d already been. It’s not in good condition—it’s a shame it hasn’t been restored.

I went back through the clock tower area, found a currency exchange with a good rate, and booked my train tickets for the whole trip. The street was lively, with heavy traffic.


I was tired and headed back to the guesthouse. When I got there, I realized my phone wasn’t showing the right time, which gave me a chance to rest before going out for dinner. The Indigo restaurant is nearby and will be perfect.
Thursday, January 25: I left home at 4:30 AM and headed to Barcelona airport. The roads weren’t blocked by farmers yet, so I made the trip without any issues. I arrived at the airport at 7:10 AM, called Parkvia, and someone picked up my car 15 minutes later. All that was left was to check in my luggage. My Etihad flight was at 10:25 AM, which gave me time for breakfast. We landed in Abu Dhabi at 7:30 PM. The flight to Delhi was at 10:15 PM, the transfer went smoothly without any stress, and we arrived in Delhi at 3:00 AM. I couldn’t waste any time upon arrival because I had a flight to Jodhpur at 6:55 AM. I got to customs, and what a nice surprise—the hall was empty. I went through immediately, had my passport and visa checked, and everything was fine. I grabbed my bag quickly and looked for the transfer to T2, which is outside. You have to walk along the taxi parking lot and take the long corridors—it’s well signposted, and the transfer took 10 minutes. At first, I was a little stressed, not knowing how long customs would take, but in the end, I was early for my 6:55 AM flight. I’m even glad I booked this one, as it got me to Jodhpur at 8:20 AM.
When I arrived, I took an auto-rickshaw to Jodhpur Palace GH, which I’d booked on Booking. The welcome was nice, and I was given a room right away. I was hoping to rest a bit, but unfortunately, it was very noisy. I settled in, took a shower, and was ready to go out and explore the city. The owner stopped me as I was leaving and told me I had to change rooms—I had to repack my bag before heading out. He showed me the way to the clock tower, which is about a 15-minute walk away.

A market lines the street leading to the tower, and the traffic is intense.

I set off in search of the stepwells and Gulab Sagar, a large basin with three water jets and a great view of Mehrangarh Fort. And yes, more baoris!

Toorji Ka Jhalra Bawdi isn’t far away. It’s a meet-up spot for tourists, with restaurants and terraces lining the area. The place is nice.


I looked for Mahila Bagh Ka Jhalra, went around in circles a bit, and finally found it right across from Gulab Sagar, where I’d already been. It’s not in good condition—it’s a shame it hasn’t been restored.

I went back through the clock tower area, found a currency exchange with a good rate, and booked my train tickets for the whole trip. The street was lively, with heavy traffic.


I was tired and headed back to the guesthouse. When I got there, I realized my phone wasn’t showing the right time, which gave me a chance to rest before going out for dinner. The Indigo restaurant is nearby and will be perfect.
Unusual trip to Rajasthan November 2022
Friday, November 4
My flight Barcelona - Abu Dhabi - Delhi went smoothly, it’s on time, and here I am back in India after 3 long years.
As I step off the plane, we head toward customs. It’s 3 AM, I’m tired but happy. The huge customs hall is below ground level and buzzing with people who’ve just arrived. In the end, they’re well organized—Indians to the left, foreigners to the right, and all along the hall, the customs officers’ posts, who remain very zen despite the crowd. It took me less than 2 hours to get out of the airport, which was pretty quick.
For this return trip, I got in touch with a driver from the "Lovers of India" group who was supposed to take me from the airport to Udaipur, passing through non-touristy villages like I love. This French-speaking driver had convinced me to travel by car, which was supposed to make moving from village to village easier. Two or three days before departure, I receive a message from the driver saying he was sick with a cold and sending another driver, his very kind brother who knows Rajasthan well but doesn’t speak French. I’m a bit disappointed by this message and doubtful about the driver’s sincerity, but I don’t have time to find another driver, so I stick to my plans, though I’m not at ease.
At the exit, the driver hasn’t arrived, and I wait half an hour before seeing him show up with a big smile, "Namaste." We don’t waste time and head to the car, which is clean and new.
We get to know each other in the car and hit the road toward Alwar. Along the way, we stop for lunch and to taste my first masala chai, which wakes up my taste buds.

I doze off during the drive, and we arrive at the Atlantic Hotel in Alwar at 10:30 AM. My room is on the ground floor, and I settle in quickly. The Wi-Fi isn’t working, but the staff do everything they can to fix it. At noon, Gajender, the driver, suggests visiting the Qila Fort, which is on the heights of Alwar. The fort is closed for restoration, but safari tours are offered—jeep, guide, driver, and visit for 1600 Rs.

We follow the great wall, which is impressive—the second largest in India and the third in the world.

We spot peacocks and monkeys.


The guide shows me an old stepwell lost in nature. It’s always my thing to check out these baoris, which can be stunning, but this one isn’t anything special. We arrive at the palace overlooking the city.

We walk around the palace, and I discover another stepwell that’s not worth lingering over.
The tour is over, and I had a great time despite the fatigue. We head back down to Alwar, near the City Palace, which has been turned into administrative offices. Gaju (the driver’s nickname) finds a parking spot near a dhaba where we have lunch (paneer masala, chapatis, chai)—it’s delicious. With my energy restored, we head to the palace. On the top floor is a museum that I visit.

At the exit of the museum, we have to go back down and walk around the palace to get to the Moosi Maharani Chhatri. I’ve been here once before and really liked it, and the place is still the same—calm and relaxing.

"This monument is the most artistic in Alwar and also the most royal, filled with fascinating history. Maharaja Vinay Singh of Alwar built this two-story cenotaph in 1815 in memory of his father, Maharaja Bakhtawar Singh. It’s also known as Moosi Maharani ki Chhatri, named after the king’s mistress, who performed sati upon his death. After the sati, she was accepted as the king’s wife. It’s an elegant monument, shaped like a flower and built with a mix of brown sandstone and white marble. The first floor is made of sandstone, while the upper floor and the chhatris (cenotaphs) are in white marble. Its sculpted pavilion has dome-shaped arches with intricate lace-like and exquisite floral patterns. There are complex motifs that shine brightly in the sunlight. The colorful circular ceiling is an important part of Moosi Maharani Ki Chhatri and is adorned with faded gold-leaf paintings of mythological figures and scenes. The footprints of Maharaja and Moosi Rani are engraved in marble inside the cenotaph, and locals pay their respects to them."

Near the chhatri, there’s a large water reservoir with a magnificent view. The place is peaceful and relaxing, and I stay here for a while, contemplating and daydreaming before heading back to the hotel for some well-deserved rest. The Wi-Fi is working now. I’m the only foreign guest, and since my room is near the entrance, I’ll be well taken care of throughout my stay.


I doze off during the drive, and we arrive at the Atlantic Hotel in Alwar at 10:30 AM. My room is on the ground floor, and I settle in quickly. The Wi-Fi isn’t working, but the staff do everything they can to fix it. At noon, Gajender, the driver, suggests visiting the Qila Fort, which is on the heights of Alwar. The fort is closed for restoration, but safari tours are offered—jeep, guide, driver, and visit for 1600 Rs.

We follow the great wall, which is impressive—the second largest in India and the third in the world.

We spot peacocks and monkeys.


The guide shows me an old stepwell lost in nature. It’s always my thing to check out these baoris, which can be stunning, but this one isn’t anything special. We arrive at the palace overlooking the city.

We walk around the palace, and I discover another stepwell that’s not worth lingering over.
The tour is over, and I had a great time despite the fatigue. We head back down to Alwar, near the City Palace, which has been turned into administrative offices. Gaju (the driver’s nickname) finds a parking spot near a dhaba where we have lunch (paneer masala, chapatis, chai)—it’s delicious. With my energy restored, we head to the palace. On the top floor is a museum that I visit.

At the exit of the museum, we have to go back down and walk around the palace to get to the Moosi Maharani Chhatri. I’ve been here once before and really liked it, and the place is still the same—calm and relaxing.

"This monument is the most artistic in Alwar and also the most royal, filled with fascinating history. Maharaja Vinay Singh of Alwar built this two-story cenotaph in 1815 in memory of his father, Maharaja Bakhtawar Singh. It’s also known as Moosi Maharani ki Chhatri, named after the king’s mistress, who performed sati upon his death. After the sati, she was accepted as the king’s wife. It’s an elegant monument, shaped like a flower and built with a mix of brown sandstone and white marble. The first floor is made of sandstone, while the upper floor and the chhatris (cenotaphs) are in white marble. Its sculpted pavilion has dome-shaped arches with intricate lace-like and exquisite floral patterns. There are complex motifs that shine brightly in the sunlight. The colorful circular ceiling is an important part of Moosi Maharani Ki Chhatri and is adorned with faded gold-leaf paintings of mythological figures and scenes. The footprints of Maharaja and Moosi Rani are engraved in marble inside the cenotaph, and locals pay their respects to them."

Near the chhatri, there’s a large water reservoir with a magnificent view. The place is peaceful and relaxing, and I stay here for a while, contemplating and daydreaming before heading back to the hotel for some well-deserved rest. The Wi-Fi is working now. I’m the only foreign guest, and since my room is near the entrance, I’ll be well taken care of throughout my stay.

Discovering South India: Tamil Nadu and Kerala
Hello everyone!
We're off! After exploring the north, the four friends have now discovered the south. We’re excited to share this new travel journal, dedicated to our little group and our strong friendship, written by Richard and illustrated with Kate’s photos. I’ll chime in from time to time with practical tips.
First of all, a big thank you to everyone on VoyageForum who helped us plan this trip. It would’ve been quite different if we’d just relied on guidebooks.
The itinerary lasted just over 3 weeks: Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Thanjavur, the Chettinad region, Madurai, Munnar, Munroe Island, Cochin, and Chennai. We traveled by train, taxi, and private car with a driver, took a domestic flight, and stayed in guesthouses, Airbnb apartments, and hotels. For each of us, including flights, the total budget barely reached 2000 €, and we didn’t hold back—knowing we avoid resorts and love street food and small Indian restaurants.

We're off! After exploring the north, the four friends have now discovered the south. We’re excited to share this new travel journal, dedicated to our little group and our strong friendship, written by Richard and illustrated with Kate’s photos. I’ll chime in from time to time with practical tips.
First of all, a big thank you to everyone on VoyageForum who helped us plan this trip. It would’ve been quite different if we’d just relied on guidebooks.
The itinerary lasted just over 3 weeks: Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Thanjavur, the Chettinad region, Madurai, Munnar, Munroe Island, Cochin, and Chennai. We traveled by train, taxi, and private car with a driver, took a domestic flight, and stayed in guesthouses, Airbnb apartments, and hotels. For each of us, including flights, the total budget barely reached 2000 €, and we didn’t hold back—knowing we avoid resorts and love street food and small Indian restaurants.

A month in Cambodia in November 2024
Here we go!!!
I left home at 4 AM on October 31st and headed to Barcelona. Driving through Barcelona on the ring road stresses me out a bit, but at 6 AM the traffic is smooth, and I arrive at the airport without any issues. I call the valet, who quickly comes to pick up my car. He takes photos of it from all angles before letting me go.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).

It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.

Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.

It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.


Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.

Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.

Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.

The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.

The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.

The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
Baggage check-in hasn’t started yet, and there are already several of us waiting.
Once free, everything happens very quickly. The flight to Abu Dhabi is on time and goes smoothly. I’ve never had any problems with this airline, which I’ve been using for several years.
The flight to Bangkok arrives at 7 AM as scheduled. This is my first time in Thailand and Bangkok. I’m used to traveling in India, and I notice that everything here is well organized—the customs process is quick, and the luggage is already on the carousel.
I booked a taxi on Booking. All I have to do is find the right exit and door based on the agency’s instructions. A large sign with the names of people who booked is posted on a wall. A hostess greets me and calls the taxi, which arrives 5 minutes later. I booked one night at the Lost Inn BKK hotel in the Phra Nakhon district, and we arrive at 9 AM. The welcome isn’t warm, and I have to wait until noon, sitting on a chair, before I can check into my room. I’m exhausted, and sleeping sitting up isn’t ideal. Noon finally arrives—the room is small but clean, which is fine for one night. I quickly take a shower to wake up because I plan to spend the afternoon visiting the Grand Palace. First, I need to exchange some money, and the banks are all close together on the same street, which is very convenient. When I enter one, a hostess gives me a ticket and invites me to sit down. There are about twenty counters, and I wait quietly until my number is called. The exchange is quick, so I can head out to find the Royal Palace. It’s actually very easy, and the walk is pleasant.
Entry to the Royal Palace (500 baht).

It’s magnificent and grand, and there are quite a few of us visiting. The sky is gray, it’s very humid, and a shower interrupts the visit. It’s a vast complex of temples and palaces. The buildings are colorful and sparkling, with a great sense of serenity (without the tourists, of course). I quietly enjoy the place and try to take photos without tourists, which isn’t easy.

Very close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, one of the oldest Buddhist temples in the capital.

It’s very famous for its 46-meter-long reclining Buddha statue.


Walking around the temple, you can see different representations of Buddha, all covered in gold leaf.

Inside the temple, on one side, monks recite their prayers, while the other side is reserved for tourists who come to meditate in silence.

Before returning to the hotel, I have dinner at an Indian restaurant. I go to bed early because tomorrow’s wake-up call will be very early again.
Saturday, November 2nd Wake-up at 4 AM, departure from the hotel at 4:30 AM. The taxi I booked via Booking is waiting for me and takes me to the airport. The trip is fairly quick—he takes small roads, and at this hour, there’s no traffic.
The flight to Phnom Penh is on time. Before boarding, I realize I left my fleece jacket on the carousel, but it’s too late to go back for it.
The flight goes well, and customs is quick.
At the exit, I take a tuk-tuk to Julieka’s GH near the museum. The welcome is friendly. I won’t be able to check into my room until noon, so I take the opportunity to exchange some euros on the market street. The street is lined with restaurants, and I’ll have my first meal there.
The museum is right across the street, so I don’t waste any time visiting it.

The representations of Hindu deities are very different from those in India, and I don’t recognize them. Many beautiful Buddhas are on display.

The museum is very pleasant, and there aren’t too many people, which is a plus.
At the exit, I return to the GH, settle into my room—which is decent and clean.
The Royal Palace is 1 km away. I walk along a garden, and at the end of the street is the Tonlé Sap, but I turn right. I arrive at a large esplanade and see the buildings with tiered roofs and glazed tiles. The entrance to the palace is a little further away.
At the entrance, I notice there isn’t the same crowd as at the one in BKK.
Khmer architecture is magnificent. The complex consists of gardens, palaces, pagodas with golden roofs, and slender spires.

The Silver Pagoda houses the small Emerald Buddha, which is actually made of jade. The silver flooring is covered with carpets. Photos are not allowed.
The walls surrounding the pagoda are covered with frescoes depicting scenes from the Ramayana.
12 days in Israel, before...
This trip took place in May 2023, a period of calm that later proved precarious.
Day of May 17
Departure from Marseille on El Al (tickets booked by ourselves, while the stay itself was organized by Voyageurs du Monde). Before check-in, six or seven El Al staff members conduct a security check—quite understandable, but they do it in total chaos. They send people to the left, then block them, redirect them to the right, for no apparent reason. Most of the staff don’t speak French, which complicates things. They work at an incomprehensible slow pace, stopping the interview to do something else, then coming back and starting over...
The flight goes smoothly, except for the meal service, which, for a four-hour flight that El Al delayed to lunchtime, is more than basic: a quarter-liter of water and a corned beef sandwich that’s absolutely disgusting and inedible. To get a coffee, you have to queue at the back of the plane. You end up missing Ryanair🙂
Arrival at Ben Gurion goes better than expected—the passport control is fairly quick, as is baggage delivery.
Transfer to the Lily and Bloom hotel, Lilienblaum Street (easy to remember 🙂)
As advised by Voyageurs du Monde, we book a table for the evening at the nearest restaurant, North Abraxas. Good atmosphere and decent food. We get a sense of the price level in Israeli restaurants.
Around us, diners share dishes placed in the middle of the table. Much more convivial than our individual plates!!
Day of May 18
The next morning, we go down for breakfast at 7:30 AM—a late hour, but the setup is slow, with the two servers taking their time. We ask the bartender for a long coffee and a black tea... It must be a complicated order because it takes him over 10 minutes to make it. He serves us with the grace of a dancer. A good breakfast if you’re not in a hurry, followed by a little stroll in the neighborhood, since our meet-up with Patrick Arfi, our guide for the day, isn’t until 10 AM. P. Arfi is a former publishing house director in Paris who has lived in Israel for a long time and has a vast cultural knowledge. After an initial chat, we head toward Jaffa, focusing on the Bauhaus buildings preserved by a clever urban policy that allows high-rise construction while maintaining old architectural ensembles.

This policy keeps the streets looking more human-scale than the usual high-rise districts in modern cities.
With the visit to Jaffa, Patrick introduces us to a fascinating slice of history, despite the temperature nearing 38°C. Jaffa, once an independent city, is now a neighborhood of Tel Aviv—a predominantly Muslim area. We notice a few buildings in poor condition. They belong to Palestinian families who left Tel Aviv. Otherwise, the city has been very well restored, apart from these few buildings.

A government agency rents out the ground floors of these buildings, which helps fund part of the security work. They also try to track down the owners and buy back the abandoned properties, but some refuse to sell. The visit is very touristy—most of the people we meet are tourists like us.






There’s very little local life, except in the lower part of the city. To be continued, as I’ve reached the allowed photo limit.
The next morning, we go down for breakfast at 7:30 AM—a late hour, but the setup is slow, with the two servers taking their time. We ask the bartender for a long coffee and a black tea... It must be a complicated order because it takes him over 10 minutes to make it. He serves us with the grace of a dancer. A good breakfast if you’re not in a hurry, followed by a little stroll in the neighborhood, since our meet-up with Patrick Arfi, our guide for the day, isn’t until 10 AM. P. Arfi is a former publishing house director in Paris who has lived in Israel for a long time and has a vast cultural knowledge. After an initial chat, we head toward Jaffa, focusing on the Bauhaus buildings preserved by a clever urban policy that allows high-rise construction while maintaining old architectural ensembles.


This policy keeps the streets looking more human-scale than the usual high-rise districts in modern cities.
With the visit to Jaffa, Patrick introduces us to a fascinating slice of history, despite the temperature nearing 38°C. Jaffa, once an independent city, is now a neighborhood of Tel Aviv—a predominantly Muslim area. We notice a few buildings in poor condition. They belong to Palestinian families who left Tel Aviv. Otherwise, the city has been very well restored, apart from these few buildings.

A government agency rents out the ground floors of these buildings, which helps fund part of the security work. They also try to track down the owners and buy back the abandoned properties, but some refuse to sell. The visit is very touristy—most of the people we meet are tourists like us.






There’s very little local life, except in the lower part of the city. To be continued, as I’ve reached the allowed photo limit.
One-month itinerary in Central Asia
Hello! I’m so excited to be back on this forum—it’s helped me so much in the past! I need your expert advice for our next trip, which will take us to Central Asia: Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Kazakhstan.
We have a month, and here’s the itinerary I have in mind: Arrival in Tashkent – 2 days Bukhara – 2 days Samarkand – 3 days Panjakent – 1 day The Seven Lakes + Iskanderkul – 3 days Khujand – 2 days Fergana Valley – 3 days Song Kol Lake – 2 days Issyk-Kul Lake – 3 days Charyn Canyon – 1 day Kaindy Lake – 1 day Altyn Emel Park – 1 day Almaty – 1 day and departure
I know the travel times, especially in the mountains, can be long, but I’ve tried to optimize it so we can rest after the long drives. Our family includes three kids aged 5, 13, and 17. We’re used to backpacking. But I have *so* many questions: -Will it be extremely hot in Uzbekistan, but manageable in the other regions on my itinerary? -I’ve read conflicting things about trains in Uzbekistan: is it possible to book train tickets in advance from France? -For the Seven Lakes and Iskanderkul, do I need to hire a driver? Is it easy to find one? Since there are five of us, we’d need a large car… or is it possible to rent a car in Panjakent and drop it off in Khujand? -What’s worth visiting in the Fergana Valley? -I’d prefer to avoid domestic flights, so I planned to break up the Osh-Issyk-Kul Lake route by stopping at Song Kol Lake and taking a horseback ride. Is that realistic? Again, do I need to find a driver, or can we do it independently? -Where’s the best base for Issyk-Kul Lake? The main goal is to relax and swim (is it acceptable for women to wear swimsuits in these regions?) -For the last part of the trip—Charyn Canyon and Kaindy Lake from Issyk-Kul—is it doable, or do I need a driver once more? -Is Altyn Emel Park doable in the summer, or is it too hot? The idea is to see the views and do a short 3-hour hike.
Thanks so much for any firsthand tips or experiences you can share!
We have a month, and here’s the itinerary I have in mind: Arrival in Tashkent – 2 days Bukhara – 2 days Samarkand – 3 days Panjakent – 1 day The Seven Lakes + Iskanderkul – 3 days Khujand – 2 days Fergana Valley – 3 days Song Kol Lake – 2 days Issyk-Kul Lake – 3 days Charyn Canyon – 1 day Kaindy Lake – 1 day Altyn Emel Park – 1 day Almaty – 1 day and departure
I know the travel times, especially in the mountains, can be long, but I’ve tried to optimize it so we can rest after the long drives. Our family includes three kids aged 5, 13, and 17. We’re used to backpacking. But I have *so* many questions: -Will it be extremely hot in Uzbekistan, but manageable in the other regions on my itinerary? -I’ve read conflicting things about trains in Uzbekistan: is it possible to book train tickets in advance from France? -For the Seven Lakes and Iskanderkul, do I need to hire a driver? Is it easy to find one? Since there are five of us, we’d need a large car… or is it possible to rent a car in Panjakent and drop it off in Khujand? -What’s worth visiting in the Fergana Valley? -I’d prefer to avoid domestic flights, so I planned to break up the Osh-Issyk-Kul Lake route by stopping at Song Kol Lake and taking a horseback ride. Is that realistic? Again, do I need to find a driver, or can we do it independently? -Where’s the best base for Issyk-Kul Lake? The main goal is to relax and swim (is it acceptable for women to wear swimsuits in these regions?) -For the last part of the trip—Charyn Canyon and Kaindy Lake from Issyk-Kul—is it doable, or do I need a driver once more? -Is Altyn Emel Park doable in the summer, or is it too hot? The idea is to see the views and do a short 3-hour hike.
Thanks so much for any firsthand tips or experiences you can share!
A Turquoise Dream Come True in Uzbekistan - 2022
We took this trip from September 12 to October 7, 2022. I didn’t post this travel journal earlier in Voyage Forum because the site wasn’t back up yet (and also because I was short on time).
Then, at the end of 2024, I made a promise to a friend: to publish my travel journal on VF. So here it is!
We took off from Paris in the late afternoon on September 12 and arrived in Tashkent around 7:15 AM on the 13th.
This trip was the result of long contemplation and preparation (it was originally planned for the year of the lockdown (2020) and was prepared with the help and advice of Nasrullo Jumanov from Turquoise Travel.
Stages and Itinerary
Stage 1: Tashkent - September 13 and 14
Stage 2: Ferghana Valley – September 15 to 17
Stage 3: Nukus and Moynaq - September 18 and 19
Stage 4: Mysterious Khiva - September 20 to 22
Stage 5: Holy Bukhara - September 23 to 26
Stage 6: Asraf - September 27 and 28
Stage 7: Mythical Samarkand - September 29 to October 2
Stage 8: Tersak (via Shakhrisabz and Urgut) – October 3 and 4
Stage 9: Samarkand – October 5 and 6
Stage 10: Tashkent/Istanbul/Paris – October 6 and 7
Stage 1: Tashkent
September 13
At the airport exit, we were greeted by the owner of our B&B (B&B Gulnara).
Today was all about recovery and our first steps in the capital. Our first currency exchange made us feel like sudden millionaires.
Our first stroll down the avenue leading to Chorsu Market introduced us to the fact that 80 to 90% of the cars here are white Chevrolets.
A walk under the arcades facing Chorsu: hardware stores, cabinetmakers, lute makers (one of them gave me a little concert/demo of a few string instruments).


As we entered the market, many vendors called out to us, including this florist who asked where we were from: ‘France? Ah! Macron! PSG!’ He then recited a list of players from the Parisian team as well as past (Platini, Zidane, etc.) and current (Giroud, Griezmann, Mbappé, etc.) French national team players. Since we’re more into rugby (we live near Toulouse), he knew more players than I did!
The market sprawls outside around the large circular, multi-story hall. We bought some grapes and bottles of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice for just a few sums. This evening, we had a meet-up with Nasrullo. The reunion was very warm: we’d been exchanging messages for over two years, and I’d been ‘torturing’ him with changes to our itinerary and trip duration. We were finally eager to meet, and honestly, I wasn’t disappointed—in fact, it was the opposite. Nasrullo was very attentive throughout our trip and always made sure, even from a distance (and most often from a distance!), that everything went smoothly. His goal was for us to leave delighted with our trip and, why not, indirectly become ambassadors for this destination. September 14 Breakfast with Nasrullo, then we set off with him by taxi to explore some of the capital’s sites.

We started by visiting the Khazrati Imam complex, which includes the mausoleum of Kaffal Shashi, the Barak Khan and Muyi Muborak madrasas, and the great Khazrati Imam Mosque with its immense prayer hall.


In the Muyi Muborak madrasa, now a museum, you can see the oldest Quran in the world. It was written by three religious scholars, including the secretary of the Prophet Muhammad, on large ‘pages’ made of antelope skin. Next, we explored Soviet-era Tashkent, discovering its parks, canals, and squares: Independence Square with its storks and phoenixes, Amir Temur Square with its large statue and, in the background, the massive Soviet-era hotel that has become one of Tashkent’s iconic buildings. Nasrullo took us through Broadway Boulevard and along what he calls ‘Tashkent’s Montmartre’… Well, it’s far, very far from Montmartre (in every sense of the word!). Then we took the metro to Chorsu station. Rush hour is pretty much the same everywhere in the metro… When we arrived at Chorsu, it was time to say goodbye. Nasrullo had to head back to Samarkand. Before leaving, he recommended some chaikhanas at the end of the galleries facing the market. We ate there for just a few euros (2 or 3 € for two people). After eating, we headed back to our room to cool off (our B&B is about a 10-minute walk away).

Around 4 PM, we set off to visit the Kokeldash Madrasa, which is still active. On the way, we stopped to watch some bread vendors and take a few photos. We were hesitating about buying some for our evening picnic when a young woman approached us. In perfect English, she asked: ‘Are you looking for something? Do you want to buy bread? Which one? How much?’ She then spoke to one of the vendors and negotiated the price. ‘Do you want one?’ And she took two. She paid directly. I took out my wallet to reimburse her, but she refused. It’s on the house! Then the vendor asked where we were from. And off we went again: Macron, PSG, football players… We’ll have to get used to it. The young woman smiled at the questions and comments, barely gave us time to thank her, and left as quickly as she had approached us.
We continued our walk. Visited the madrasa. Then we crossed the boulevard to see the Tashkent Circus. I would’ve loved to go in and visit, but the ticket seller wouldn’t hear of it. We carried on around what should’ve been a park with old-fashioned rides and attractions. All we found was a construction site. Oh well! Back at our hotel, a message from Nasrullo was waiting for us. He had managed to change our train ticket for the next day. Instead of taking the 6:00 AM train, we’d take the 8:00 AM one. And instead of second class, we’d be in first class! Great! This evening, we had a picnic at one of the breakfast tables in the B&B courtyard. Under a shelter, the owner and his family were celebrating a birthday. The owner started by offering us some tea. Then they brought us some fruit (watermelon and melon). Finally, after the song, candles, and cake cutting, they brought us two generous slices of that beautiful birthday cake. Delicious!
We took off from Paris in the late afternoon on September 12 and arrived in Tashkent around 7:15 AM on the 13th.
This trip was the result of long contemplation and preparation (it was originally planned for the year of the lockdown (2020) and was prepared with the help and advice of Nasrullo Jumanov from Turquoise Travel.
Stages and Itinerary
Stage 1: Tashkent - September 13 and 14
Stage 2: Ferghana Valley – September 15 to 17
Stage 3: Nukus and Moynaq - September 18 and 19
Stage 4: Mysterious Khiva - September 20 to 22
Stage 5: Holy Bukhara - September 23 to 26
Stage 6: Asraf - September 27 and 28
Stage 7: Mythical Samarkand - September 29 to October 2
Stage 8: Tersak (via Shakhrisabz and Urgut) – October 3 and 4
Stage 9: Samarkand – October 5 and 6
Stage 10: Tashkent/Istanbul/Paris – October 6 and 7
Stage 1: Tashkent
September 13
At the airport exit, we were greeted by the owner of our B&B (B&B Gulnara).
Today was all about recovery and our first steps in the capital. Our first currency exchange made us feel like sudden millionaires.
Our first stroll down the avenue leading to Chorsu Market introduced us to the fact that 80 to 90% of the cars here are white Chevrolets.
A walk under the arcades facing Chorsu: hardware stores, cabinetmakers, lute makers (one of them gave me a little concert/demo of a few string instruments).

As we entered the market, many vendors called out to us, including this florist who asked where we were from: ‘France? Ah! Macron! PSG!’ He then recited a list of players from the Parisian team as well as past (Platini, Zidane, etc.) and current (Giroud, Griezmann, Mbappé, etc.) French national team players. Since we’re more into rugby (we live near Toulouse), he knew more players than I did!

The market sprawls outside around the large circular, multi-story hall. We bought some grapes and bottles of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice for just a few sums. This evening, we had a meet-up with Nasrullo. The reunion was very warm: we’d been exchanging messages for over two years, and I’d been ‘torturing’ him with changes to our itinerary and trip duration. We were finally eager to meet, and honestly, I wasn’t disappointed—in fact, it was the opposite. Nasrullo was very attentive throughout our trip and always made sure, even from a distance (and most often from a distance!), that everything went smoothly. His goal was for us to leave delighted with our trip and, why not, indirectly become ambassadors for this destination. September 14 Breakfast with Nasrullo, then we set off with him by taxi to explore some of the capital’s sites.


We started by visiting the Khazrati Imam complex, which includes the mausoleum of Kaffal Shashi, the Barak Khan and Muyi Muborak madrasas, and the great Khazrati Imam Mosque with its immense prayer hall.


In the Muyi Muborak madrasa, now a museum, you can see the oldest Quran in the world. It was written by three religious scholars, including the secretary of the Prophet Muhammad, on large ‘pages’ made of antelope skin. Next, we explored Soviet-era Tashkent, discovering its parks, canals, and squares: Independence Square with its storks and phoenixes, Amir Temur Square with its large statue and, in the background, the massive Soviet-era hotel that has become one of Tashkent’s iconic buildings. Nasrullo took us through Broadway Boulevard and along what he calls ‘Tashkent’s Montmartre’… Well, it’s far, very far from Montmartre (in every sense of the word!). Then we took the metro to Chorsu station. Rush hour is pretty much the same everywhere in the metro… When we arrived at Chorsu, it was time to say goodbye. Nasrullo had to head back to Samarkand. Before leaving, he recommended some chaikhanas at the end of the galleries facing the market. We ate there for just a few euros (2 or 3 € for two people). After eating, we headed back to our room to cool off (our B&B is about a 10-minute walk away).

Around 4 PM, we set off to visit the Kokeldash Madrasa, which is still active. On the way, we stopped to watch some bread vendors and take a few photos. We were hesitating about buying some for our evening picnic when a young woman approached us. In perfect English, she asked: ‘Are you looking for something? Do you want to buy bread? Which one? How much?’ She then spoke to one of the vendors and negotiated the price. ‘Do you want one?’ And she took two. She paid directly. I took out my wallet to reimburse her, but she refused. It’s on the house! Then the vendor asked where we were from. And off we went again: Macron, PSG, football players… We’ll have to get used to it. The young woman smiled at the questions and comments, barely gave us time to thank her, and left as quickly as she had approached us.

We continued our walk. Visited the madrasa. Then we crossed the boulevard to see the Tashkent Circus. I would’ve loved to go in and visit, but the ticket seller wouldn’t hear of it. We carried on around what should’ve been a park with old-fashioned rides and attractions. All we found was a construction site. Oh well! Back at our hotel, a message from Nasrullo was waiting for us. He had managed to change our train ticket for the next day. Instead of taking the 6:00 AM train, we’d take the 8:00 AM one. And instead of second class, we’d be in first class! Great! This evening, we had a picnic at one of the breakfast tables in the B&B courtyard. Under a shelter, the owner and his family were celebrating a birthday. The owner started by offering us some tea. Then they brought us some fruit (watermelon and melon). Finally, after the song, candles, and cake cutting, they brought us two generous slices of that beautiful birthday cake. Delicious!
Singapore in 4 to 5 days
Hi there,
We're heading back for another trip to Asia. We've already been to Singapore in... 2008. Let's just say things have changed since then. We'll be arriving in February, either from Bangkok or Siem Reap in Cambodia. We have great memories of it. What are the must-sees these days? I can't wait to see what I think was a hotel under construction back in 2008 (it looks like a boat perched up high—I can't send a photo with 2000 pixels).
Thanks in advance!
TIALOU
Sugar overload in the American West
After a first trip with her teens to the West during Easter 2019 and then to New York at All Saints' Day that same year, Cécile has only one idea in 2022: to go back!!!! So, we’re planning a loop from SF to SF, passing through the sequoias, LV, Death Valley, and Yellowstone.

Off we go, full of joy and good spirits, heading to San Francisco. To make the flight more comfortable, I’d booked a seat with extra legroom.

Really nice!

Anyway, everything went smoothly until we arrived—1h30 of waiting at customs!!!
But no matter, around 11 PM, we took the shuttle to a hotel, tired but happy

Off we go, full of joy and good spirits, heading to San Francisco. To make the flight more comfortable, I’d booked a seat with extra legroom.

Really nice!

Anyway, everything went smoothly until we arrived—1h30 of waiting at customs!!!

But no matter, around 11 PM, we took the shuttle to a hotel, tired but happy
Morocco, an encounter...
Hello everyone,
I’ve been to Morocco about fifteen times, but I’ve never posted a travel journal here on Voyage Forum. Why? I have no idea… Maybe because this section was so active, with lots of stories and photos. I thought sharing my adventures in *al Maghrib* wouldn’t be very original. Today, this space feels quieter, so what if I tried to give it a little life back, modestly? With some help…
This trip will be different. From the start of my relationship with Richard, I was determined to introduce him to *my* Morocco. But he was a bit reluctant… He’ll tell you about our 2022 meeting, and I’ll illustrate it with my photos, just like we did with our India travel journal.

I’ve been to Morocco about fifteen times, but I’ve never posted a travel journal here on Voyage Forum. Why? I have no idea… Maybe because this section was so active, with lots of stories and photos. I thought sharing my adventures in *al Maghrib* wouldn’t be very original. Today, this space feels quieter, so what if I tried to give it a little life back, modestly? With some help…
This trip will be different. From the start of my relationship with Richard, I was determined to introduce him to *my* Morocco. But he was a bit reluctant… He’ll tell you about our 2022 meeting, and I’ll illustrate it with my photos, just like we did with our India travel journal.

16 days in Peru in August 2023
Hi everyone,
The years go by and Machu Picchu has been on our "to-do list" for a few decades now...
But Peru is, fortunately, so much more than this legendary site...
We went as a couple for a 15-day trip. For the first time, we delegated the logistics to a local agency (Paprika in Arequipa). This agency offers "classic" small-group tours and the option to do it privately, which we chose.
No complaints—they were perfect for organizing transportation, hotels, and French-speaking guides.
The "classic" southern Peru loop is: Lima, Paracas, Nazca, Arequipa, Colca, Titicaca, Cusco, Sacred Valley, Cusco. Nothing very original... but why get creative when there’s already so much beauty to discover?
We opted for a shorter loop, skipping Paracas/Nazca because the small planes in Nazca weren’t a unanimous hit, and it saved us dozens of hours on the bus. But we added a stop at Palccoyo (the rainbow mountains) between Titicaca and Cusco.
It might seem like a shame, but we don’t regret it at all.
We went as a couple for a 15-day trip. For the first time, we delegated the logistics to a local agency (Paprika in Arequipa). This agency offers "classic" small-group tours and the option to do it privately, which we chose.
No complaints—they were perfect for organizing transportation, hotels, and French-speaking guides.
The "classic" southern Peru loop is: Lima, Paracas, Nazca, Arequipa, Colca, Titicaca, Cusco, Sacred Valley, Cusco. Nothing very original... but why get creative when there’s already so much beauty to discover?
We opted for a shorter loop, skipping Paracas/Nazca because the small planes in Nazca weren’t a unanimous hit, and it saved us dozens of hours on the bus. But we added a stop at Palccoyo (the rainbow mountains) between Titicaca and Cusco.
It might seem like a shame, but we don’t regret it at all.
