Results for "Soufrière+|+50+>+144"

Bonjour à tous,

je suis revenu il y a 2 semaines du Playa Pesquero à Holguin.

Voici un petit résumé: Arrivé à l`hôtel:accueil chaleureux avec un petit verre de jus avec ou sans alcool. Magnifique entrée et réception qui donne sur le lobby bar avec beaucoup de végétation et petit pont avec eau. Beaux sourire de la part de tous le monde. La chambre: Superbe!!!que dire de plus et excessivement propre.... La piscine:je n`ai jamais vu une piscine aussi grande....superbe. Il y a un coin où c`est plus tranquille et de l`autre côté, il y a l`aqua bar et l`animation.Très bon service au bar de la piscine et très gentil.Il y a de l`animation tout l`après midi et c`est très bien quand on est un peu sur le party...très bon daiquiri lemon en passant avec beaucoup beaucoup de rhum si vous apporter votre thermos!!!!

Le site:Vraiment trop grand selon mes goûts.J`ai trouvé que c`était très très impersonnelle justement a cause de la grandeur du site...c`est plutôt difficile de créer des liens avec les gens qui y travaille car ils changent continuellement d`endroit...surtout pour les restaus. Si tu a aimer tel ou tel serveuse à tel restaurant, quand tu y retourne et bien elle n`est plus là...moin interressant quand tu tombe sur des serveuses plutôt bêtes....ce fût le cas très souvent d`ailleurs dans les restaus pour diner!!!!

la bouffe:Rien a dire pour tout les restaus pour diner et à la carte pour souper.Pour diner, il y a beaucoup de choix de restaus dont un italien, un poulet frit, au bord de la plage (hot dog, burger salades...), un buffet au bord de la piscine et le beer garden (24 heure)....essayer brochette de crevette et bacon, vous en serez accroc!!Il y a aussi un bar a crème glacée. Alors beaucoup de choix pour diner très bon et chaud.Restau à la carte pour souper également excellent avec plusieurs choix et aussi chaud. J`ai adoré.Là où ça se gâte c`est le buffet principal!!!!! Vraiment mauvais (salé) et toujours très froid avec les mouches en prime qui se promène dans les plats....j`y suis aller juste 3 soir et j`en ai eu asser....moi et mon conjoint avons été malade tous les deux!!!!Bref, nous avons manger du pain et des pâtes froides....

C`est un des seuls point négatif de l`endroit et comme j`expliquais, la grandeur du site. Si vous chercher un endroit intime, ce n`est pas le bon hôtel...

Si vous avez des questions, ne vous gêner pas.....

Ciao!

Voici mes commentaires, très personnels, de mon séjour à cet hôtel:

Santana Beach Resort & Casino, Rép.Dom., 14 au 21 avril 2005, départ de Québec avec Zoom, avion Excell, acheté chez Go Travel Direct.

Départ et arrivé à temps, les douanes en R.D. sont rapide, sourire aux lèvres, nous sentons que nous sommes les bienvenus. Arrivé à l’hôtel dans les 30 minutes, reçu avec un petit cocktail (trop sucré à mon goût) et le check-in rapide. En fait 1 heure après notre atterrissage nous étions dans notre chambre.

Chambre très correcte, 2 lits queen, salle de bain complète, bon sèche-cheveux (pas juste un tuyau de balayeuse) et le tout très propre. Grand garde-robe avec tablettes et coffre-fort ($) que nous n’avons pas utilisé. Grand bureau avec 6 tiroirs ainsi que 2 tables de nuit avec tiroir également. Nous étions dans le bloc 34 au 2ième étage donc près de la mer, pas loin de la piscine mais un peu plus loin du lobby, resto buffet et salle de spectacle, mais il faut faire descendre toute cette bouffe et tous ces petits drinks que nous prenons dans la journée.

Resto : Selon nos goûts et nos critères, sous toute réserve.

Napoli (italien) bon sans plus puisque le bar à pâtes du buffet est excellent.

El Pescador (fruits de mer) bon sans plus, nous avons mangé du saumon qui était trop cuit même raide, beaucoup d’arrêtes. Les langoustes sont en supplément et cette journée là elles étaient à 14$us/livre sans savoir si la cuisson sera à point nous n’avons pas pris le risque.

Shangai (asiatique) notre meilleur, nous avons pris 3 assiettes différentes et avons partagées, c’était succulent.

Mariachi (mexicain) nous avions une réservation pour le dernier soir et nous avons plutôt opté pour aller manger des pâtes au buffet et quelle surprise c’était soir de Carabeen avec décoration approprié avec des feuilles de palmiers c’était très bien.

El Tamarindo (buffet) où nous prenions nos petits déjeuners, nos déjeuners ainsi que plusieurs dîner. Ce qui nous a le plus impressionné est la propreté des lieux ainsi que le fait d’avoir des boîtiers en plexiglass qui recouvre les plats du buffet, donc qui doit être froid, reste froid et ce qui doit être chaud, reste chaud et sans parler que la plupart des mouches sont tenues loin des plats. Les nappes sont changées quand la table est libérée et aussitôt la mise en place se fait.

Pizzaria nous y avons mangé 1 fois en fin de soirée, la pizza était bonne mais le choix restreint (pépé/from) j’ai vu 1 pointe garnie mais qq l’a prise avant moi.

Quand nous quittons le lobby/buffet/salle de spectacle (où nous trouvons table de billard et babyfoot) pour se rendre à la piscine nous déambulons sur une allée bordée de fleurs. Avant d’arriver à la piscine principale nous passons le kid club avec une pataugeuse avec fontaine pour les enfants. Belle grands piscine, avec coin pour les jeux tel que waterpolo, volleyball et j’ai également vu des compétions de kayak. Petite cascade dans un coin et évidemment un bar dans la piscine où les employés sont très souriants et entraînants. Nous avons également accès à ce bar du côté du bord de la piscine qui est ouvert de 10 à 19 heures. Jaccuzi pour environ 12 personnes, ferme également à 19 h.

A proximité de la piscine se trouve le bâtiment qui abrite le centre d’activités et les serviettes de plage, c’est également dans ce coin que le Fun Club pratique la danse de rassemblement, fait des jeux et/ou de l’aquagym en après-midi.

La plage, nous y arrivons enfin. Elle est belle avec une palmeraie magnifique et large en sable parfois épais d’autre fois à fleur de gallets. Jeux : table de ping-pong (2), terrains de soccer, volleyball et pétanque. Le matin vers 10 heures gym à la plage. La plage est nettoyée et ratissée à tous les jours. La mer (LE point négatif de ce complexe) est brune comme un lac. Elle est parfaitement baignable, sans odeur. Nous avons passé notre semaine à la plage et on s’est baigné à tous les jours. Il y a sur la plage un bar qui n’a que des jus et de l’eau et un endroit pour les massages. Face à la mer vers la droite il y a des gens qui vendent des bijoux, des peintures, des paréos et d’autres qui font des tresses (tête complète 40$us sûrement négociable). La plage n’est pas très longue pour faire sa petite marche journalière (±25 min)

Dans le lobby les mardi et vendredi des marchands viennent s’installer avec des bijoux et des peintures. Pour les bijoux c’est la boutique en face de l’hôtel alors il n’y a pas grand deal à faire, ils ne sont pas très négociables, pour les peintures c’est autre chose, il faut être tenace et on arrive à faire de très bonnes affaires…

L’animation est excellente, les animateurs du Cotursa Fun Club sont très entraînants et vivants.

Départ de la R.D. avec ½ heure de retard mais arrivé à Québec avec ½ heure d’avance. Très beau voyage et j’y retournerais. 🙂

Salut a tous je suis de retour du Sol Luna samedi le 29/2/05 Moi et mes amis avons fait la connaissance d'une serveuse (Yanelis Soto) au restaurant Santa Maria près du hall d'entrée un sourire une attitude et une douceur a faire rever elle est enceinte et va finir de travailler a la fin février pour accoucher début avril. Nous lui avons donner $$$ et petite gateries. Pour les $$$ pas directement car elle aurait été obliger de séparer donc si vous voulez voir des yeux pétillants et lui faire un brin de jasette elle apprécie vraiment. Aussi si vous avez des choses pour les bébés elle serait des plus heureuses.

Aussi si quelqu'un peut apporter journal anglais pour Eylmer qui travaille sur les catamarans au luna mares il faut les cacher car ils n'ont pas le droit de lire les nouvelles d'ailleur. Il est ingénieur en océanographie mais plus payant pour lui de travailler avec le tourisme a 15$ par mois plus pourboires. Lui il a un enfant de 3 Mois

Bon voyage a ceux qui partent Nous nous essayons de faire notre deuil pou cet année

Rej

Bonjour à tous, À part le billet d'avion, j'aimerais avoir une idée du budget à prévoir pour passer 3 belles semaines à découvrir le Sénégal.

Merci

Bonjour

je souhaite partir en république dominicaine et pour la première fois je serais seule à voyager, pouvez vous me conseiller un hôtel tout inclus avec une ambiance sympathique ou je puisses m'amuser et surtout pas m'ennuyer.

Je suis dynamique, j'ai 25 ans et toujours le sourire !!!

merci pour vos indications !!!

a bientot et bonnes fêtes !

Salut nous étions au Méalo du 13 au 21/11. Nous avons passés des vacances inoubliables, paradisiaque... L'hôtel est trés bien des petits batiment de 12 chambres chacune, les chambres sont spacieuse est trés confortables, la salle de bain est simple mais propre. Le personnel est super ils ont toujours le sourire et chante tout le temps, même la directrice est toujours présente a l'entrée du restaurant. Pour la nourriture celle-ci est trés variée et surtout on voit que cela est frais. Le meilleur c'est le petit dej, avec ces crepes, son bacon, les jus de fruits frais mixés devant vous, un délice ! L'animation est présente mais pas étouffantes, les jeux apéros sont un peu tard vers 20h30, quand on a fait toute une journée d'excursion et que l'on s'est levés a 6h00 le soir on ne trainent pas. Nous avons fait les excursions avec l'hotel pour plus de sécurité et l'on ne le regrette pas tout etait bien organisé. si vous voulez plus de renseignements contactez-moi. Flo

Salut à tous,

Il n'est pas encore tout à fait terminé mais depuis le temps que j'en rêvais, mon bébé est enfin sorti du ventre de sa maman virtuelle. Vous pouvez admirer son joli sourire sur www.carnetdevoyage.be. Il est enfin sorti de la maternité (entendez le disque dur) pour rejoindre la toile.

Au programme: La Mauritanie, Le Caire, la Jordanie, le Cameroun et l'Afrique du Sud. Des récits, des photos et des liens vers des sites sur ces pays.

Voilà,

Fred

Je reviens d'un séjour en Asie(Thaïlande et Cambodge) et je dois avouer que la Thaïlande c'est assez décevant...Trop, trop touristique...tout est surfait, aucune place pour la surprise ou l'aventure!Le sourire légendaire des Thaï, je l'ai pas trop vu, pas d'émotion et Bangkok bof, bof... Le Cambodge par contre très bien!!!😉🙁

J'aimerais avoir de l'info sur les coups de coeur d'Italie. Quant à moi j'ai visité Prague et Budapest au printemps dernier et j'ai beaucoup aimé.

Bonjour,

Je vais en Malaisie, Thaïlande, Laos, Cambodge et Viet-Nam en esayant de prendre l'avion le moins possible. On m'a dit par exemple que passer la frontière Thaïlande/Malaisie ou encore Laos/Cambodge par voie terrestre avec un sourire était assez périlleux. Pouvez-vous me renseigner?

Merci et bon week end.

Bonjour a tous et a toutes!!!!

Me revoici de nouveau sur les ondes pour quelques jours apres deux semaines de sudation intensive (Ella Maillart le dit Me le corps est pas fais pour ca...) sans meme avoir perdu un kilo, mais avec les yeux et la tete remplis de tonnes d'image et de sourire! ;o)))

Partie le 12 je suis revenue hier. Le debut commence a la nepalaise le petit jeune qui vient avec moi et que j'aime bien est en retard. Nous voila en taxi, sur les routes sinueuses et cahoteuses a courir apres le bus que l'on rattrappera finalement au premier des nombreux check-point anti-maoiste!!!;0))

Une charmante Didi (grande soeur) pres de moi et pour une fois de la place, mais c'etais rever en couleur 2ieme check-point me voila avec une charmante Bhani (petite soeur) sur les genoux, stop suivant papi et mami s'installe, faites le calcul vous verrez vous meme!!!!;0))))0

Heureusement sur la routes sineuse, a faire tourner de l'oeil les plus courageux des hommes, mes vieux me quittent rapidement. Apres maintes salut pour aussitot presque par magie se retrouver assis sous leur porche de leur petite maison en terre battu, a me faire de grand salut de la main comme s'ils n'avaient jamais bouger de leur porche.

Premiere journee de marche relax toute en descente, entre deux marches on partage le concombre le plus gros que j'ai jamais vu avec une petite famille au sourire radieux dans leur petite maison en bois branlant. La 2 ieme journee de marche ca ce corse, la foret toute en monter et en chaleur!! Pas de vue exceptionnelle juste des odeurs de la maison!!!!;o)))

Troisieme jour, ca monte tout doucement a 3330 metres, un cheval et son papy nous tiennent compagnie, je ne saurai dire qui des deux est le plus fatigue!!!! On debarque dans sa petite lodge rudimentaire mais chaleureuse, avec 5 enfants en haillons colleux comme des chewing-gum avec bebe qui dors a mes cotes.;0))

A l'assaut de l'Himal Langtang direction Kianjin Gompa la terre devient arride les arbres sont sont quasi inexistant a part quelques petits arbustes ici et la. Les Yaks font leur appirations et nous montrent de leur souffle chaud et fort leur mecontentement a notre passage sur leur territoire.

Au loin comme une apparition les 5000 et 7000 metres du Langtang se profile a l'horizon, des sommets d'une blancheur exquise travailler par le vent et le froid sculpter d'une main plus forte que l'homme, une nature a l'etat brut qui ne laisse aucune chance a ses preneur d'assaut.

Quelques 7000 metres me separe de la porte du Tibet je reprend la voie ascendante en attendant d'y mettre bientot les pieds par une voie plus accessible. Deux journees en une de descente, 1000 metres de deniveller rocailleux qui me font reclamer un taxi pour la suite a l'arrive!!!!;o)))

Le lendemain tout est deja oublie et pourquoi descendre quand on peux monter dans de magnifique terre de culture en terrasse qui me rappelle tellement le Perou!!!! Avec Nima on gage un coca que je ferai en deux heures ce qu'il pense que je ferais en trois!!! J'atteindrais finalement le but en 2 heures 05 minutes parce qu'au detour d'une terrasse deux vieilles Didi edentes et d'une maigreur a faire peur, me mette sur le dos un bebe de quelques mois pour que je l'ammene avec moi a la maison. C'est peut-etre un message.......;o)))

Thulo Syabrhu retour rapide a la civilisation avant de vite retomber 1000 metres plus haut au confort de la nature et des jeux de cartes pres de la truie bien chaude!!!:o))) Monter encore et encore vers le lac sacre de Shiva mettre un pied devant l'autre a plus de 4000 metres ca demande de la concentration, la vegetation est arride et presque fige a cette altitude. Tout a coup devant nous le bleu glacial de lacs (108 dans la region) immobile nous figent sur place par tant de beaute dans un endroit si froid et arride!!!!!

Ici les maoistes entrent en jeu certains en ont meme comme hote a diner, les locaux sont febrile, partager entre accord et desaccord, ils ne savent comment agir de quel cote de la barriere se poser. Pour ma part je voient des enfants qui savent a peine lire, jouer les Che Guevara pour des raisons qu'ils ne comprennent pas.

Notre lodge est acceuillante mais froide, les nuits sont dure (le sac de couchage est pas efficace avis a ceux qui savent pas quoi me donner a Noel...;o))), mais une Didi au sourire souriant rechauffe nos coeurs, surtout celui de notre cher Don Juan de Nima. Jeux de main jeux de vilains au petit matin, l'amour ne se contruit pas avec autant de facilite que pour nous dans les montagnes hyamalayenne. Trois cent metres plus haut le calme total avec une vue magnifique des Annapurna a plus de 250 KM jusqu'au Tibet, les nuages nous cachent les massifs de l'Everest mais nous sommes deja vachement impressionnes.

Une journee de repos entre calme luminosite et froideur, les lacs nous invitent mais la marche reprend et notre corps peine sous les 1000 metres de denivelle ascendant-descendant. Mais la recompense est grande a l'arrive, une petite cuisine enfumer, un petit poele a meme le sol, une Didi au sourire edente mais aux yeux de braise qui nous couvrent de mille petit soins pendant que les allemands se gelent le cul dans le Dining Hall....;o)))

Le depart est dur la chaine Hymalayenne derriere nous nous retient, mami le regard triste entreprend sa journee en sortant chevaux et poules, je serais volontier rester dans ce petit havre de paix chaleureux. On descend encore, 1000m tout dans les jambes partager entre rire glissade et j'en peux plus avec Bakta le guide de l'Amricain....;o)) J'ai perdu Nima au profit de la troupe de belles allemandes blonde!!!!;O) Ah la jeunesse de nos jours.;o)

Kutumsang 2500 metres la tout est clair on est en plein territoire maoiste, pas un membre de l'armee a l'horizon, les murs sont orne de slogan pour liberer le peuple de l'imperialisme americain. Fais pas bon etre yankee dans le coin, pas beaucoup plus canadien je pense puisque pour eux y'a aucune difference!!!!;o))

Mais tout est calme pas d'accro, les cors tibetains ressonnent toute la journee, un homme est mort hier, le sons vibrant accompagne le feu du soleil couchant qui embrasse la dodue silhouette du Ganesh Himal du haut de ses 7000 et quelques metres.

Kutumsang-Chisopani, une dure journee entre monter et descente comme les doigts d'une main. Mais qui ce passe comme dans du beurre grace aux sourires de Bakta. Les concombres sont toujours aussi enorme si j'etais ailleurs je les croiraient transgenique. Ont les degustent assis en indiens avec les enfants en jouant dans la terre comme si ont en avaient jamais manger!;0))

La monter est dur mais encore une fois la recompense est grande nous sommes l'attraction du village sous la chaine hymalayenne a faire notre yoga avec les enfants qui nous imitent et font des roulades. Le soir un courant electirque passent entre Nepal-Quebec, on danse sans arret sur des musiques traditionnel faisant les pitres a defaut de connaitre les pas. J' aurai presque pu tomber amoureuse ce soir la tellement ces simples de vivre en montagne.!!!!;o)))

La descente jusqu'au bus stop est douce mais longue le retour aux forets et aux villages avec enfants, poules et vaches tous dans le meme sac. On gambade presque malgre les marches en sens inverse tout le monde vient de la ville faire la longue ascension vers leur village pour celebrer Dipawali fete de la lumiere(fete en l'honneur dieu de la properite et de l'argent) en famille.

Avec Bakta on est toujours sur un nuage et on alimente les histoires aupres du feu pour le week-end en marchant sans trop penser aux consequences, dans un pays aussi prude, main dans la main. Ayant kidnapper Nima aux allemandes ont se retrouvent tous chez lui assis en tailleur dans le salon sous le regard intriguer de sa mere les mains pleine de riz a rigoler.

Pas le temps de se reposer, c'est Dipawali, les tambours et clairons hantent les rues, des milliers de bougies brillent partout et illumine le sol de mille feu. On dessinent partout des offrandes au sol tous plus beau les uns que les autres qui s'illumine sous le doux reflet des chandelles. La soiree se continue en danse et musique traditionnelle. Ma descente de l'Everest est fulgurante mon nuage s'effrite et me fait constater la grande difference entre Nepal et Occident, entre candeur, gestes simple, amour cache et explosion des moeurs occidentaux.

Mais je rejoint mon lit souriante d'avoir pendant quelques instant cru a cette candeur inconnu.

Je redonnerai des news avant mon probable depart au Tibet.

Est-il jouable de partir au tibet pour qq semaines sans parler ni chinois ni tibetain?

Merci

Returning to Curaçao is a bit like reopening a book whose pages still smell of sun and salt.

As soon as the plane descends toward the island, the familiar colors reappear: the dazzling turquoise of the sea, the pastel facades of Willemstad, and that unique light that seems to soften everything.

For this second trip, we no longer arrive as hesitant explorers, but as confirmed lovers of this warm island.

We already know that the warm wind will welcome us as soon as we step out of the airport, that the beaches will once again offer their infinite shades of blue, and that each day will have that unhurried pace that makes you forget the rest of the world.

Yet, despite this sense of déjà vu, Curaçao always manages to surprise. A new cove to discover, a different sunset, a smile shared with a local...

The island has that rare talent for reinventing itself without ever betraying what makes it so endearing.

This second trip isn’t a repetition, then, but a reunion: a chance to rediscover Curaçao with more attentive, more connected, and perhaps even more amazed eyes.

I invite you to keep reading this travel journal and watch the videos that will help you learn a little more about the island’s different attractions.

Just click on the video image to start watching.

To go to a specific post, here are the appropriate links:

Exploring Willemstad’s colorful neighborhoods The Most Beautiful Beaches in Curaçao Hike at Boka Sint Michiel | Flamingos & panoramic views Climbing Christoffel Mountain Den Dunki & Flamingos of Jan Thiel Must-see spots in Curaçao Snorkeling at Playa Kenepa Chiki: Turquoise Water & Tropical Fish Snorkeling at Porto Mari: One of Curaçao’s Best Spots Snorkeling at Mambo Beach, the Perfect Spot Snorkeling at Daaibooi Beach, a diverse marine world

5 days in Armenia with an 8-month-old baby

Hi everyone,

I wanted to share our experience after a 5-day trip to Armenia with my wife and our 8-month-old baby.

It’s a destination that’s still relatively unknown, but it’s really worth the trip, especially if you enjoy cultural, spiritual, historical, and human-centered travel.

We were looking for a change of scenery but not too complicated with a baby—and easy to organize (even though our travel agency helped us a lot, thanks to them! 😊). In the end, Armenia was a wonderful surprise. It’s not a "postcard-perfect" destination. It’s a raw, mountainous, ancient country with real depth.

And most importantly: Armenians *love* children.

That’s probably what surprised us the most. In restaurants, waitresses, owners, or even other customers would naturally come over to play with our baby, hold them for a few minutes, smile at them, or keep them entertained while we ate. It wasn’t intrusive. It was very natural, very family-oriented. You can tell that children have a real place in society. For parents traveling with a baby, it’s honestly a pleasure.

Day 1 — Yerevan

We started with Yerevan, a pleasant capital that’s quite easy to explore with a child.

The city isn’t huge. You can stroll around Republic Square, visit cafés, discover markets, and walk at a relaxed pace.

With a baby, it’s pretty practical: you can easily take breaks, return to the hotel, or go back out in the evening. The vibe is laid-back, family-friendly, and we felt safe.

In the evening, Yerevan is very lively. The restaurants are welcoming, and almost everywhere, our baby drew smiles.

Day 2 — Etchmiadzin and Khor Virap

On the second day, we headed to Etchmiadzin, the spiritual heart of Armenia. It’s an important place for understanding the country and its Christian identity.

Then, we visited Khor Virap, facing Mount Ararat.

It’s probably one of the most striking places on the trip. The monastery, the plain, the distant Ararat—everything is visually and symbolically powerful.

With a baby, you just need to plan a relaxed pace, avoid rushing, and take your time.

Day 3 — Garni and Geghard

The third day was one of our favorites.

We visited the Temple of Garni, very different from the monasteries, with a stunning setting in the mountains.

Then we went to Geghard, a monastery partially carved into the rock.

The atmosphere is incredible. It’s quiet, mineral, almost timeless. Even if you’re not very religious, you feel something.

With a child, the visit goes well, but again, it’s best not to overload the day. The key is to keep a flexible pace.

Day 4 — Noravank

On the fourth day, we headed to Noravank.

The road itself is an experience: dry landscapes, mountains, red rocks, valleys. The monastery is surrounded by impressive cliffs.

It’s one of the most beautiful sites we saw in Armenia.

You really get the sense that Armenian monasteries were built in impossible places—between sky, stone, and mountain.

Along the way, you can also pass through the Areni region, known for its wine. With a baby, we mostly prioritized simple breaks, relaxed meals, and uncompressed travel times.

Day 5 — Lake Sevan and return to Yerevan

For the last day, we went to Lake Sevan.

The lake is vast, bright, and surrounded by mountains. The Sevanavank Monastery, up high, offers a beautiful view.

It’s a gentler stop, perfect for ending the trip.

Then we returned to Yerevan for a final dinner. Once again, the welcome in restaurants stood out. In Armenia, traveling with a baby isn’t seen as a hassle. On the contrary, people spontaneously come up to the child.

Our overall impression

In 5 days, you obviously don’t see all of Armenia. To reach Tatev, Dilijan, Haghpat, or Sanahin, you’d need more like 7 to 10 days.

But for a first visit, 5 days are enough to feel the essence: Yerevan, the major monasteries, Mount Ararat, the landscapes, the Christian history, and the Armenian hospitality.

What we loved most:

- the kindness of people toward our baby; - the very family-friendly atmosphere; - the monasteries in incredible landscapes; - the view of Mount Ararat from Khor Virap; - the atmosphere of Geghard; - the cliffs of Noravank; - the food; - the feeling of safety; - the fact that the country is still relatively untouched by mass tourism.

What to know when traveling with a baby:

- distances can be longer than expected; - some roads are mountainous; - avoid overloading the day; - it’s better to have a driver or a car; - plan for breaks, water, diapers, baby meals; - a stroller isn’t always practical on ancient sites; - a baby carrier can be very useful.

Recommended 5-day itinerary

For a first trip, I’d suggest:

Day 1: Yerevan Day 2: Etchmiadzin + Khor Virap Day 3: Garni + Geghard Day 4: Noravank + Areni Day 5: Sevan + return to Yerevan

It’s balanced, not too tiring, and gives a great first impression of the country.

Conclusion

Armenia is a wonderful destination with a baby, as long as you travel slowly and don’t try to see everything.

What touched us most, beyond the landscapes and monasteries, was the attitude toward children. There, you feel that babies are welcomed with real tenderness. In restaurants, people naturally helped us, played with our child, and gave us a few minutes to breathe.

That’s rare, and it makes a big difference in the travel experience.

Armenia isn’t a destination you consume quickly. It’s a country that you *feel*.

For those who love cultural, spiritual, historical, family, and human-centered travel, I highly recommend it.

A wonderful journey through Colombia

Our 3-week itinerary: Bogotá, the Coffee Region, Medellín, then heading north to finish in Cartagena de Indias and the Caribbean coast.

A rich history from the Pre-Columbian era and, of course, from the 1980s onward, with drug cartels and guerrilla movements.

Today, the country is peaceful and developing.

Agriculture is thriving, and there are abundant underground resources…

Colombians are incredibly welcoming and always smiling, despite a low minimum wage.

We had some amazing encounters.

We organized this trip with a local agency, specifically with Cinderella, who was very attentive to our wishes. Thanks so much, Cinderella!

Don’t hesitate to visit this beautiful country

It’s an understatement to say that Japan is a world apart. All around me, people exclaim: "How lucky you are to be able to go there! I’ve always dreamed of visiting, of finding myself in that culture blending tradition and technology!" Yes, they’re right. Until the moment their dreams become reality and things appear as they truly are, without the filter of fantasized preconceptions. Because in the collective unconscious, Japan indeed seems like a civilization—if not neutral—at least stripped of any social maturation. As if it had emerged all at once from its canonical ages, offering only the best of its traditions, and as if those traditions were undoubtedly the foundation of its extraordinary discipline. Yet, as always, the truth is far more complex. Modern Japan is likely shaped by its millennia-old traditions. But that Japan is also the result of its own uncertainties and contradictions. I’ve always been wary. I’ve never understood why the cleaning women on the platform bow when the train arrives. At some point, too much discipline, too much deference—it makes you smile, it raises questions.

Finally, thanks to F., a dream is coming true! Not the dream of going to Japan—a country I’ve visited more than any other, except for Réunion and the UK—but the dream of completing the fastest round-the-world trip of my career. Indeed, due to the restrictions imposed by the Russians*, the plane flies over the Caucasus and China on the way there; on the return, it gracefully heads toward the Arctic after skirting the Aleutian Islands, Alaska, and Greenland. So, in nearly 26 hours of flight, I complete my 6th round-the-world trip. A round-the-world trip with just one stopover. Or two, if you count our impromptu detour to Okinawa.

(* In response to Western sanctions, Russia closed its airspace to Western airlines on February 28, 2022, except for Air Serbia, Turkish Airlines, Pegasus, and Belavia. This decision adds 2 to 3 hours to flight times and, incidentally, increases operating costs.)

The empire of noise. The empire that dazzles. In Japan, the auditory and visual space is constantly fed. No respite. You have to be strong. Navigating public transport feels like playing the most advanced video game: moving between language barriers and a different organization, the hero tries to ignore the numerous visual and auditory distractions. Mostly auditory, though. Because in Japan, there’s a culture of noise that has undoubtedly inspired our national railways. Everything must be announced. So, here and there, all along the route, we find agents whose sole role is to endlessly repeat safety messages through megaphones more or less suited to the situation. The result is a constant murmur, a kind of tinnitus, a subtle but incessant buzz that fades only at bedtime and returns with a vengeance at first light, when we descend back into the supposedly sterile depths of Osaka’s subway. "To go right, please turn right, kudasaï. When descending the stairs, please mind the steps, kudasaï. To go straight, please take the left corridor, kudasaï." That *kudasaï* ("please" in Japanese), I assure you, has permanently lodged itself in my auditory cells.

Screens are no exception; the brain is constantly stimulated. But paradoxically, passengers massively retreat into their own worlds via their screens. Literally glued to their phones, earbuds firmly in place, people escape into the virtual aisles of a furniture store, a game, a movie... In the train cars, raised voices are rare. The field is clear for announcements and other jingles. Each stop is announced by a little tune unique to each station. Simply incredible.

If we usually judge a country by the welcome its inhabitants offer, in Japan, we’re left wanting. Indeed, the Lost in Translation* spirit doesn’t just apply to verbal exchanges—it applies to everything, especially non-verbal communication. In Japan, me, the slightly North African Corsican, I’m at a loss. I speak loudly, I gesture, in front of a hotel concierge just as lost. Each for our own reasons. Yes, he speaks some English, but we can’t seem to connect. It’s a losing battle trying to find a bit of compassion from a local who’s far from familiar with Western concerns. I try to buy tickets for the World Expo? I run into a systematization as rigid as it is abrupt, which the concierge can’t seem to navigate. While we might still have a shred of common sense, here in Japan, everything is digitized. Soon, no one will be surprised that a QR code becomes essential just to go to the bathroom.

(* Film by Sofia Coppola, released in 2003, which explores isolation, unease, Japanese culture, and language through the experiences of two protagonists.)

In the end, we get that ticket for the Expo. After providing personal information on yet another account created for the occasion, we buy electronic tickets—a QR code, then—to regulate the comings and goings, the souls and aspirations of all these wandering beings scattered across the globe. And it’s probably for the best... Because we’ll be tens of thousands of visitors—100,000 to 150,000 per day—walking the aisles of this enormous improvised amusement park, a kind of delirious superstructure surrounded by the Grand Ring, the largest wooden construction in the world. Inside the park, the pavilions, flagship vessels of their respective countries, compete in ingenuity, proportionate to their GDP, to attract visitors. But you have to wait up to two hours to visit the most popular ones! Fortunately, about a hundred countries can be explored without waiting in shared, more spacious areas. What will I remember from this adventure? The beauty of that wooden structure, despite any environmental or financial considerations—200M € for barely renewable elements; a certain poetry, even magic, in the expression of this event—conversing with Juliette Petit, the splendid representative of Vanuatu, had something indescribable; a close-up experience of Japanese discipline when it came time to return to the subway after that epic evening—thousands upon thousands of people converging at the same time toward a single place without any interruption in the flow.

But my real passion is the countryside. So, I’ll especially remember that brief escape, on the very first day, to the Mino-o waterfall, where the journey itself was already enchanting. Quickly leaving the underground lines, our train speeds through the city’s endless expanse and drops us at the foot of a hill, the abrupt edge of the urban sprawl. The slope was too steep to build anything? We leave behind an impressive hotel, a capitalist eyesore defying the laws of elevation to tackle the climb toward the waterfall. A bucolic walk where the stroller can choose between a paved path or more epic trails. Here and there, stalls, temples, everywhere, a certain serenity. The city’s pulse gives way to a magnificent spectacle magnified by giant sequoias. From the depths of a ravine, we try to glimpse the sky beyond the foliage. Everything is oversized. Here, you can breathe.

***

In reality, Japan has never undertaken any real work of memory. Aside from a few feeble gestures to appease Washington in its choice of Asian partners, one wonders if the Japanese have ever truly grasped the horror they were forced to participate in. While our Judeo-Christian society has more or less assimilated the notions of forgiveness and self-questioning, where does Japanese society stand, juggling a millennia-old Zen philosophy and the unabashed Machiavellianism of an emperor utterly possessed? Is it just me, or does there float in the atmosphere a kind of unease, a malaise, an awkward relationship with reality? For me, bowing to a train as it enters the station is just the result of a poorly directed moral dilemma...

Ah, how distant is the time of sakoku, that closure of the country—both concrete and ideological—that was in vogue for two centuries. Because if no one could enter, no one could leave either! A boon for neighboring countries. But from 1854, following the skirmishes of Commodore Matthew Perry, who demanded Japan’s participation in trade, the country suddenly became aware of the disparities separating it from the West. Bring Japan up to the level of other nations? Industrialization, competition, search for raw materials... Hirohito (1901–1989) emerges on the scene, a bit expansionist and willing to stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Above all, he knew how to use, in his own way, the incredible capacity for self-sacrifice of his people...

We protest, we condemn, we all rally behind an acceptable discourse when it comes to discussing the use of the atomic bomb. Yet, we forget one essential thing: Hiroshima wasn’t enough to make Hirohito yield. While we’re bombarded with anti-fascist elements, as if the sole purpose of school curricula were to prevent us from voting for the National Rally, we completely overlook those events of rare cruelty that took place on the other side of the globe at a time contemporary with Nazi atrocities. Why? Because it was farther away, on the other side of the world? Because we must both condemn the use of nuclear weapons and Nazism? What a dangerous game. Killing civilians is beyond comprehension, everyone agrees on that. But hasn’t Japan ever been guilty of such atrocities? Our empathy is legitimate; it won’t, however, remove from my mind the idea that there was no other solution. Nagasaki is the most telling proof of that.

At least in France, in school textbooks, Hitler will have completely overshadowed the existence of people crueler and more abject than him. Certainly, Adolf was a deeply disturbed man whom events propelled to power. But I’m justified in believing that his approach was probably more humane than that of Joseph Stalin at the height of his art*. And if Hirohito followed the same line as Hitler, in the sense that he represented the superior race, he would apply with conviction what was Stalin’s credo: contempt for his own people when sending them to slaughter, and an even fiercer contempt for the human race when it didn’t have the good fortune to be Japanese. Just look at how China was invaded and by what means millions of Chinese were annihilated, burned, deported, buried alive! Operation Scorched Earth or Three Alls Policy for kill all, burn all, loot all? No comment. Even today, the Japanese are convinced they waged a patriotic war, when clearly, that war served only vague ideological (and certainly economic) interests.

(* "In many ways, Hitler’s National Socialism was far more humane than Communism: it wasn’t unthinkable to speak to the SS or the Gestapo, and dissuading them from sending you to a prison camp wasn’t utopian. To some extent (compared to the Communists), you could still expect a semblance of justice. All those who lived under Hitler and under Communism will tell you: as the front lines shifted, they always managed to end up in Germany, where, though it was a strange place ruled by a madman, life went on. Under Communism, there was no life; totalitarianism was absolute. Probably, Hitler’s conservatism prevented him from fully imitating Bolshevism." Seraphim Rose in The Revolutions of the 19th and 20th Centuries (circa 1970))

In Naha, we visit two strategic sites: the Imperial Navy headquarters and Maeda Escarpment, in Urasoe, better known as Hacksaw Ridge. I love this confrontation with history. In the hand-dug tunnels of the headquarters, we meet Japanese people seeking information. They’re not responsible for this tragedy. Neither are we. I would have liked to tell them that, to hug them, to move on. To finally believe in those peace messages displayed here and there. Yes, it’s curious to read those calls for peace* when no real work of memory** has been undertaken. Two civilizations, two perspectives, a profound misunderstanding. When I analyze the waste of that war—and particularly the waste of those Pacific battles—like Peleliu in autumn 1944 and Okinawa in spring 1945—I can’t bring myself to share in the pathological patriotism that reigns within these walls. There, the room where the last message of Admiral Minoru Ōta was transmitted in Morse, praising the merits of the archipelago’s people. A tangled mix that, yes, is charged with positive emotions but, no, won’t remove from my mind the idea that this people was completely conditioned, completely disconnected from reality. Allying with the Axis powers? Invading the South Pacific? And finding that noble! Everyone sees things through their own lens.

(* Peace Declaration by Denny Tamaki, Governor of Okinawa, June 2020. ** "Recognizing the atrocities committed by one’s country requires a mix of democratic culture and self-confidence that is more the exception than the rule." Dominique Moïsi in Les Échos, April 30, 2015)

Okinawa. 200,000 dead. Stemming from bushido, the way of the warrior, this conditioning reached its peak with the kamikaze philosophy in particular and suicide in general. So, schematically, here’s how things went: as the island was encircled—Peleliu, Iwo Jima, Okinawa—and all hope was lost, the order was given to kill ten American soldiers before taking one’s own life. The deceit of this system, where surrender is synonymous with dishonor, involves creating tunnels and secret pockets where Japanese soldiers hide and from which they emerge. Long before the atomic bomb, the knell of their war had sounded. Hiroshima and Nagasaki are just the result of human pride, of which Hirohito’s reign is the finest example. Why was this henchman of Satan left in place until his death? I don’t understand. While the humiliation inflicted on Germany repeatedly was abject, especially for its people, the absence of any real and pressing accountability for Hirohito in this large-scale carnage he instigated leaves room for the wildest interpretations. As if to underscore my point, Emperor Naruhito visited Okinawa the same day we did, paying his respects to the inhabitants who fell in battle. I looked at the faces in the monorail serving the south of the island. There were elderly people who undoubtedly lost their parents eighty years ago. To what extent can they blame this tragedy on the delusional visions of their leaders?

On Maeda Escarpment, I salute the courage of Desmond Doss, that conscientious objector who fought to serve his country while refusing to ever carry a weapon. There, at the top of a steep ridge, you can see to the north the Allies’ advance, while to the south, the slope is gentler down to Shuri, in front of the headquarters. The underground is a Swiss cheese filled with enemies. Desmond works as a medic. He manages to save 75 wounded from certain death by evacuating them at night from the battlefield using makeshift ropes. Back in Osaka, far from the somewhat dilapidated tropical islands, I rediscover the splendor and grandeur of Japan’s second-largest city. To tell the truth, and this applies to Okinawa too, the density is so insane on this archipelago that you sometimes wonder if it’s not just one giant city spread across the vast territory. Because between Tokyo and Osaka, while there are some mountains and forests, it’s the city that dominates; during rush hour, a rapid train connects the two cities every five minutes. We get lost in rather quiet alleys parallel to the main streets, only to find ourselves in the covered and lively galleries of Dōtonbori. We’re looking for a place to eat—above all, we’re trying to navigate the unlimited options stretching endlessly along the sidewalks. It’s absolutely mind-blowing. And while I introduce F. to a part of history that our Western societies have quickly forgotten, he initiates me into Japanese gastronomy despite my well-known aversion to Asian food. But nothing beats having a master in the field! We feast on okonomiyaki, Japanese pancakes expertly prepared and served on a teppan embedded in our table.

Night falls on Japan, and I still haven’t found the answer. Like in Singapore, one can praise the calm and serenity of human relationships, the delicacy that may just be hypocrisy, the politeness, the discipline. But above all, we notice that in the absence of freedom, in the absence of madness, poetry struggles to take root, boredom looms, as does real madness. Bushido still exists, honor is there and must be preserved. But the youth drowns in electronics and in willingly sterile cults (otaku), unable to discern what’s essential, failing to believe in their dreams. You have to succeed? Young people commit suicide because of school bullying, the slightly older ones because of work-related difficulties or marital problems. Nothing exceptional, we might say—average*—but you’d expect better from a country so well-organized, a country that makes so many Westerners dream. Yes, night falls on Japan. Empire of noise, empire of the senses, a very strange land where you find clean toilets in subway corridors but where the very meaning of life seems stifled by the mirages of technology. Above all, a civilization deprived of a penance that would prove salutary. We’re caught between two waters. Those of a shallow modernity without depth or anchor; those of a past that was majestic but irreparably tainted by the demonic madness of an overly adored emperor.

How can one fully thrive when guilt has no outlet?

(* France and Japan share a common statistic of 17 suicides per 100,000 inhabitants, which, depending on density, means 30 per day in France and 70 in Japan...)

A horseback ride by the sea on the Caribbean island of Saint Martin or ... on the beach, but at a walk and trot! It was probably these visions that gave me the irresistible urge to do this horseback trek—to walk on the sand, but as a rider, and also enjoy a swim that was anything but ordinary.





From wish to reality ... all it took was heading to Ranch du Galion. Here we are, on the heights of the east coast of the charming island of Saint Martin, in the heart of the Caribbean.





After a first horseback ride that we really enjoyed, with a simple trip to the beach, it didn’t take much to make us want to repeat the pleasant experience. My daughter Emma had been dreaming of it too—so why not share this change of scenery, but this time opting for a slightly longer trek? It’s the big day. And Jess is there to greet us this morning with a big smile. Jess—or Jessica—is the one who runs this tropical ranch with passion; she looks after a whole little family of horses. This morning, she’ll be our guide and companion for this seaside horseback ride.



So, we set off along the wild shores of the stunning Anse du Galion.

In the enclosures, behind the fences and ropes, some stallions already seem impatient to stretch their legs! They know the place, the routines, and the trails ... and the soothing reward halfway through—a dip in the sea. Maybe that’s what’s causing a little excitement among these mounts!





Horses and ... an iguana slipping into the bushes. Given its appearance—its crest, its parched skin, and the dewlap hanging under its head—you’d think it wasn’t exactly young.



Anyway, back to the horses. Among the mares and stallions, I try to spot "Avenir" and his elegant gait—he was "my" horse during my last trek here, on the trails and sands of Galion. Well, spotting him isn’t going to be easy! My memories are a bit fuzzy, and several of these horses look like him ... -- Before setting off on the trek, it’s time for Jess to choose our mounts. For riders with little experience ... it’ll be calm horses, well-used to trekking—definitely easier and more enjoyable. Titia, a beautiful white mare for my daughter, and Prince, a gentle stallion for me. A little anecdote along the way: we’re really staying in the family for this horseback ride—these two horses are actually related: "my" Prince is the son of the lovely Titia!



to be continued -->

I booked a ticket to Spain with my married name instead of my maiden name.

On my ID, my maiden name (×××××××) is listed. Do I need to change my name? Thanks

Hi,

If you take the bus from Bangkok Ekkamai to Pattaya, foreigners will be asked to pay an extra 20k for checked baggage, even though it’s already been paid for and listed on the ticket. They don’t even weigh it—a woman just demands you pay again, and if you refuse, she goes to get security colleagues who yell at you and threaten not to let you board. We later found out at the hotel that this is a well-known organized scam. The company is ROONG REUANG COACH, and we were about fifteen people—all foreign tourists—in the same situation. For Thai passengers, they didn’t ask for anything.

Then in Pattaya, violence and corruption rule. The next day, we learned the city is classified as "scarlet" (high-risk). A hotel guest was attacked with a knife by four Thais on a scooter—they stole his bag with his bank card and cash inside, luckily not his passport. A large hotel near ours was just shut down administratively for pedophilia. On Apple Maps, many reviews warn about how dangerous the city is. I’ve been coming to Thailand regularly for over 30 years, but I barely recognize the country since COVID. The "Land of Smiles" is turning into the "Land of Scowls," and a form of racism is emerging. For us, this will be the last time—next stop, Vietnam, and even China, which pleasantly surprised us.

Finally, China and the U.S. are advising their citizens against traveling to Thailand due to violence. Right now, most tourists here are Indians and Russians—together, they make up the majority—along with some from the Gulf (Qatar, Dubai, Oman).

And off we go again for what’s certainly our last trip to the American West... After the disaster of September 2022, the diabetes flare-up, and the pulmonary embolism, we’re spending ten days in the spots we missed and some unlikely places. After flying over Scotland, still English,

Greenland, still Danish,



And Lake Huron, still half Canadian,

We land early in Detroit... a nightmare of an airport. A long, dreadful baggage check process, but we still make it to gate A10 just in the nick of time—only for disaster to strike! My passport has my first and last name, my boarding pass has my first and last name, BUT not on Delta’s computer—so we’re denied boarding! We head to the Air France-Delta-KLM desk, where an employee listens to us sympathetically. He books us two seats on an 8:30 AM flight to SF... Then passes us off to two colleagues who offer us a night in a hotel... and send a message to the baggage service to keep our checked luggage safe... In the end, we go to bed earlier, wake up earlier, but since we’ll still get some sleep on the plane, we might be able to look back on this whole mess with a smile... well, we hope so, anyway. 10:17 PM in Detroit—time to sleep. Our clean clothes and toiletries are in the plane. We’ll bounce back!!;

Huge disappointment. I’d seen that Friendly Shoe Shop was recommended by a blog. I went there with the intention of buying a small leather backpack. I visited once for a look around, then went online to compare prices with shops in Europe, like Marius, which specializes in leather. I realized that for the same price ($145 US), I could find the same thing in Paris. I went back to Friendly Shoe Shop and tried to see if it was possible to negotiate. The saleswoman immediately reacted. With a smile, she took the bag, put it back on display, and told me: "If you want to negotiate, go to the market!" Basically, she was telling me to get lost. You can easily apologize by saying prices are fixed and non-negotiable, but it’s unacceptable to react that way when the prices are excessive. It’s really taking tourists for a ride.

When you know the cost of living in Vietnam, this price is nothing short of a scam. I’m not questioning the quality of the product. If the workers were paid 3 or 5 times the normal rate, I wouldn’t mind. But there’s no indication that’s the case.

In summary, in Hoi An, you have the choice between: - Quality shops where you’ll pay the same price as in a European capital, which gives the owner a huge margin since they don’t pay import taxes, transportation costs, and manufacture directly, etc. - Counterfeit shops where you won’t pay much for mediocre quality.

Friendly Shoe Shop has nothing friendly or fair about it. It’ll suit people who travel for two or three weeks, have the means, and want to say when they get home that they bought a bag or shoes in Hoi An. For everyone else, there’s nothing fair about it…

Hi there, I’m not really into architecture, but I’ve always wanted to visit Brasília to see what a modern city built from scratch looks like, and I thought not many people lived there. After doing some research, I realize the city is actually quite crowded. As I’m planning my trip to Brazil, people keep telling me not to go, that I’ll be disappointed and it’s a waste of time.

For those of you who’ve been to Brasília, what do you think? Thanks for your replies. Anne

Hello, Some of you may not be aware, but a few days ago, Titi passed away suddenly. He was a very active member of this forum, keeping track of cruise departure schedules for members. Today, I wanted to open this post to inform you and let you share messages that will bring comfort to his partner, Agnés.

Wednesday, November 15, 2023 Flight Cairns – Sydney Okay, let’s recap. We’ve traveled through Western Australia, the Northern Territory, Queensland, and tonight we’ll be in New South Wales. We’ll even lose an extra hour—and a bunch of degrees! We’re on a flawless journey so far. One of our suitcases is almost two kilos overweight. The guy checking us in gives us a nice smile and decides to overlook the excess baggage fee.

A flight, for once, without a hitch, no delay (just half an hour…). Taxi… We discover our… room… We’ve got a suite like never before on this trip. It’s a posh apartment on the 7th floor—on cloud nine, really! We can’t believe it. 113.26 € per night! The Meriton Suites Mascot Central if you ever find yourself in this city… We even have a washing machine (and it works!). Such a change from the cabins in the west!



We don’t linger, though. We take the metro. Why? Well, yeah, we’re still kids at heart—off to the Opera House, of course!









Restaurant prices have doubled. Even tripled. We reluctantly settle for a pizzeria because that T-bone for 155 AUD (100 €)…

We know how to handle ourselves. There’s a Woolworths right downstairs. And we’ve got a kitchen, remember! And a terrace! We even have huge bats to brighten up our skies!

We got back enchanted from a 6-week trip to Cambodia! Our itinerary: Kampot - Kampong Chhnang - Battambang - Siem Reap - Kampong Cham - Sen Monorom (Mondulkiri) - Banlung (Ratanakiri) - Kratie - Kampong Thom - Phnom Penh. We traveled by bus, minivan, boat (between Battambang and Siem Reap), overnight bus, scooter, tuk-tuk, and rickshaw for shorter distances. We stayed in guesthouses, homestays, and even in the jungle during a trek. While the Angkor temples are fabulous, it’s the people you should visit Cambodia for—the "Land of Smiles" truly lives up to its nickname! Tourists gather in Angkor but are quite rare elsewhere, even though the country is easy to travel around. I won’t describe our trip in detail but instead highlight a few favorite moments. From Kampot, don’t hesitate to head out around 6 AM to see the fishermen return and their wives selling their catch (just 10 minutes away by the coast). Guaranteed picturesque! In Battambang, known for its food scene, we discovered a cooking class with Smokin’ Pot (authentic Khmer cooking class). They pick you up from your guesthouse to shop for ingredients (we made fish amok and beef lok lak) at their village market, then cook and eat together. A private class—just the two of us! They also send the recipes via WhatsApp as a PDF. +855 12 821 400 In Siem Reap, I can recommend a francophone tuk-tuk driver who was very attentive to our wishes. We visited tourist spots but also more remote villages and local grilled-pork restaurants with him. He’s a wealth of information about local life, and chatting with him was a real pleasure—we left with regret! You can reach him on WhatsApp: Vung Hem, +855 96 614 0146. We did a 2-day, 1-night trek in Mondulkiri. Don’t expect a super dense jungle—it looks more like a forest similar to ours. But Nara, our Bunong ethnic guide, made the experience adventurous and ultimately very immersive! WhatsApp +855 86 630 489 Bee Bee’s Chalets homestay: If you pass through Banlung in Ratanakiri, we *loved* this family and their budget-friendly bungalows. Playing Uno, enjoying Nita’s cooking (ask for her fish amok—amazing!), it was a true homestay experience! Contact Nita on WhatsApp: +855 88 818 5525. In Kratie, rent a scooter and follow the Mekong north for 40 km at your own pace. Being so close to the locals was a treat! Same goes for heading south if you have time. Kampong Thom: Head 25 km out to visit the pre-Angkorian temples of Sambor Prei Kuk. Around a hundred monuments spread across three sites… and hardly anyone there!

A few practical tips: Though prices are often listed in dollars, you can always pay in riels (1 USD = 4000 riels), which is what we preferred. PassApp: An app to book tuk-tuks or rickshaws (and most importantly, know the price upfront). Virak Buntham: A bus company connecting several cities, bookable online.

Feel free to ask me questions about places, accommodations, etc.—I’d be happy to answer!

Hi everyone,

After my narrow victory over Herodotos (just one point ahead—I had a close call, even in December in the northern hemisphere!), I’m now honored to organize the next contest, the one for the closing year, whose results will be announced on the first day of the coming year. Out of affection for the poet with wind in his soles, who dreamed of ivory and setting sail, again and again, even in his final hours, I borrow the theme from the first line of a poem dear to me: I embraced the summer dawn.

So, as the year draws to a close, the theme will be: embracing dawn.

The verb here is just as important as the noun. More than just a subject about sunrises or that magical half-hour of pink light before the sun appears (a photographer’s nightmare: either I crank up the ISO and deal with noise, or I lug around a tripod, and say goodbye to spontaneity like a beggar on marble quays), this is about those happy little mornings—the thrill of joy in the soft light of the first hours, whether it’s a landscape, a person, an animal, a plant, architecture, or whatever else. What’s certain is that it makes you want to smile at the day breaking. Even if you go back to bed afterward.

Technical details (shamelessly borrowed from Ragamuffin, thanks!):

Participation Each VF member can submit up to 3 photos, until Wednesday, 12/25 at 11:59 PM, Milan time. Each photo must be posted in a separate message, with its number (1, 2, or 3). Don’t forget to add a little explanation (comment, location, etc.).

Voting: Each VF member can vote for the 3 photos they consider the best, based on their own criteria and the theme.

Voting will take place from Thursday, 12/26 to Tuesday, 12/31 at 11:59 PM, Milan time.

Selected photos will be ranked in order of preference: - 1st photo: 3 points - 2nd photo: 2 points - 3rd photo: 1 point

The winner is the author of the photo with the most points.

Results will be published on 01/01 (if I’m in any state to do so). In case of a tie, the number of first-place votes will decide. The winner will have the honor of organizing December’s contest.

For discussion, it’s here.

That’s all! Let’s welcome Dawn with rosy fingers, dressed in saffron...

Catherine

Hi there, These cities aren’t in the guidebooks much, but they’re absolutely worth a detour—just 180 km from Osaka and perfect for a stop on your way back from the south or heading down from Osaka. I’ve been here for five days, and the autumn colors are simply stunning: bright reds, vibrant yellows, deep maroons, and lush greens against a crystal-blue sky. Fall here is magical. Plus, the canal in central Okayama (Nishigawa) is all lit up. Hardly any Western tourists stop here, but there are plenty of Japanese visitors.

Nous projetons un voyage Crète puis Santorin en septembre2021 Pourriez vous nous donner des conseils merci d'avance

Deux copains devisaient : Ils se sont rencontrés sur la route entre Agra et Jaipur et voyagent ensemble quelques jours.

« T’as vu ce type qui avance sur ses moignons sur sa planche à roulettes , c’est atroce hein ! » « Ouais, j’ai vu, on peut pas prendre la misère du monde sur les épaules, cool mec » « D’accord, mais quand tu vois cette jeune mère en guenilles avec son môme plein de croûtes, ça te choque pas ? »

« Fais pas ton rabat-joie, regarde, ils sont pauvres d’accord, mais t’as remarqué leur sourire, pis, ils sont habitués, pis c’est des réseaux, ils mettent leurs estropiés dans les endroits stratégiques pour que tu files des ronds parce que tu te sens coupable ? » « T’as peut-être raison, j’ai vu ça chez nous, des femmes qui sortent des voitures en groupe et qui vont faire la manche sur les trottoirs »

« Ben tu vois, c’est pareil, viens, on va chercher un hôtel clean, on n’est pas là pour se faire chier dans une guest-house pourrie, et pis j’ai lu qu’on n’était pas loin du quartier des bijoutiers, ça s’rait cool que je rapporte une bague à ma copine » « Moi je cherche des saris en soie, ma soeur veut en faire des rideaux »

« T’es parti où l’année dernière ? » « J’ai fais un trip au Brésil, p’…n les favellas, fallait voir çà. Un peu pareil qu’ici mais j’me sentais moins sécure » « C’est dingue tous ces pauvres dans le monde tu trouves pas ? »

« Sûr, mais t’es en vacances non. T’irais toi aux Tarterets, aux Minguettes, au Watts de L.A, ou à Marzahn à Berlin, c’est plein de pauvres aussi, là, c’est exotique. Encore que, t’as vu, y’a des gens qui visitent des bidonvilles, c’est tendance, mais des bidonvilles authentiques hein, pas des cités daubées remplies de drogués et super coupe-gorge.

« Moi je trouve qu’il y a de plus en plus de pauvres partout » « Ouais, mais vis ta vie, t’as bossé, économisé, t’as payé ton billet d’avion, t’as organisé ton séjour, alors tes sentiments à deux balles mets les au fond de ta poche et profite, vise un peu cette culture différente, tous ces monuments nickels et t’as vu ces paysages, incroyables non ?, T’es pas pauvre toi, alors arrête de bavasser »

« Mais je ne suis pas riche non plus ! » « Si t’es là, c’est que t’as de la thune, t’as déjà vu des pauvres voyager toi ? » « Ben oui, les migrants » « Oula, c’est au’t chose, arrête de me prendre la tête, viens on va bouffer »

« Ok, en plus on bouffe bien pour queue dalle mais ça me gêne quand même » « Tu veux faire quoi, aller construire des puits en Afrique, comme s’ils étaient des minables incapables de le faire eux-mêmes ?, va bosser chez MSF, ça lavera ta culpabilité et te donnera bonne conscience, bosse dans une assoc, change de job, bosse comme éduc dans les cités, bouge-toi ou alors savoure tes vacances et fous-moi la paix. »

Ainsi devisaient deux copains… Je crois que la nuit tombée, dans l’hôtel confortable où ils ont trouvé une chambre pour deux pour limiter les frais, sous le fan tournant à grande vitesse qui ainsi chassait les moustiques, ils ont, chacun dans leur lit songé à la conversation de la journée.

Ca veut dire quoi la pauvreté aujourd’hui ? Est-ce être indigent, précaire, en mauvaise santé, ne pas savoir lire écrire, ne pouvoir s’instruire ? Est-ce une servitude d’être pauvre, des incertitudes, de l’hébétude ? Est-ce aussi un manque d’amour, d’écoute, d’éducation ? Ne pas avoir un toit, du boulot, des vêtements et avoir faim ? Le pauvre des USA, celui d’Afrique, celui d’Asie, celui d’Europe ressent-il la même angoisse ?

Pauvres de toujours et nouveaux pauvres du 21ème siècle, p’être un tournant de l’histoire, tiers monde, quart monde, nouveau monde, un voyage en terre inconnue...bien plus inquiétant qu’un avion annulé, remboursé pas remboursé, des pépètes perdues, un projet momentanément cloué au sol !. Ca c’est une déception, une simple déception, une galère temporaire, un ajournement des rêves...

« Le pauvre a peu, le mendiant n’a rien, le riche a trop peu et nul n’a assez »