Results for "Courlande+|+123+>+218"

Avez-vous une idée de la période à laquelle se déroule les vendanges tardives en Bourgogne ? et en fait c'est quoi une vendange tardive ? Est-ce que c'est la caractéristique d'une région ou seulement une culture particulière effectuée par quelques producteurs ?

Merci de m'éclairer là-dessus 😄.

À part la compagnie EasyJet, quelles sont les autres compagnies aériennes qui offrent des vols à prix reduits entre Nice et Paris-CDG.

Nous planifions un voyage en France pour juin 2005.

Merci

Pourriez vous m'apporter votre expérience personnelle concernant la manière de se nourrir en Inde

Ce qu'il faut absolument éviter; les spécialités locales un peu trop spéciales... etc

En fait je recherche le maximum d'expériences car je commence tout juste à réfléchir a ce projet de voyage et j'ai beaucoup beaucoup de questions ...

Merci d'avance🙂

Bonjour a toutes et a tous

je rentre d'un voyage de 5 semaines:ile de Vancouver, Yukon, Alaska.

Si vous voulez des infos, n'hesitez pas, elles sont assez fraiches.

Salut à tous,

Je pars pour un stage de quatre mois dans une agence d'architecture à Beyrouth. J'étais fascinée par cette ville lors d'un précédent séjour au Liban l'année dernière. C'est pourquoi j'ai décidé d'en faire mon diplôme d'archi. Mais voilà je ne sais pas trop comment démarrer mes recherches de logement. On m’a dit que vu la taille des appartements, la colocation était assez courante, surtout que j’ai l’impression que les loyers sont assez élevés. Si quelqu’un pourrait me guider un peu dans mes recherches ça pourrait beaucoup m’aider. Par exemples dans quels quartiers chercher en priorité quand on a plutôt un petit budget. Quel journal consulter ? etc

Merci beaucoup d’avance

Je me permet de retranscrire sur ce forum un article provenant du site internet d un quotidient francais :

Chers disparus Mayas Quelque 45 000 personnes ont disparu durant le conflit guatémaltèque. Depuis la reconnaissance du génocide, en 1999, des fosses communes sont ouvertes. Photographe en terre maya depuis une dizaine d'années, Miquel Dewever-Plana a réalisé un reportage sur les exhumations.

Par Aline LECLERC jeudi 20 mai 2004 (Liberation - 06:00)

oups de marteau dans un gymnase du Quiché. Scellées, de petites boîtes en bois deviennent cercueils. Ceux de femmes et d'enfants massacrés il y a plus de vingt ans à Vipulay. Identifiés grâce à des restes de vêtements, leurs squelettes ont été retrouvés dans une fosse commune, comme les légistes en découvrent un peu partout au Guatemala. Jusqu'ici, ils n'étaient que «disparus». La «disparition forcée» fut une pratique courante de l'armée dans les conflits latino-américains, mais c'est au Guatemala, de 1962 à 1996, qu'elle fut la plus fréquente : des 200 000 victimes de la guerre, près de 45 000 ont disparu, dont une majorité d'Indiens.

Sans cadavre, pas de trace des massacres. Seules les exhumations réalisées par les légistes prouvent aujourd'hui les exécutions arbitraires d'enfants ou de femmes enceintes qui contredisent l'idée, toujours très répandue, que toutes les victimes appartenaient à la guérilla. Des procédures officielles qui se sont développées après la publication du rapport de la Commission pour l'éclaircissement historique (CEH). En 1999, celle-ci a conclu à l'existence d'un génocide, dénonçant la responsabilité de nombreux dirigeants guatémaltèques dans la planification des massacres et le recours à la politique de la terre brûlée, signes d'une stratégie d'élimination systématique de la population maya. Pourtant, ils jouissent toujours d'une totale impunité. Parmi eux, l'ex-général Rios Montt, responsable de la disparition de villages entiers lorsqu'il était au pouvoir, président du Congrès jusqu'en novembre dernier et candidat à l'élection présidentielle cet automne.

Les exhumations font ressurgir l'horreur d'un conflit que certains voudraient oublier. Aux légistes de soigner la mémoire défaillante du pays, premier pas vers la reconnaissance des atrocités commises et des souffrances endurées. Les familles, elles, peuvent enfin inhumer leur parent disparu selon les rites catholique, évangélique ou maya.

Sept ans après les accords de paix, le nouveau président, Oscar Berger, vient de s'engager officiellement à indemniser les victimes de la guerre.

Tcho tcho,

Y'a un moment qu'on a plus trainé dans le coin, l'un perdu au fin fond de la Maurienne l'autre entre deux bouquins de physiopath ....Terrain hasardeux mais ô cobiem remplis de richesses, la montagne est venue a la rencontre de la plate terre ou la bière coule a flot direction immédiate la culotte de cheval... Mais ces retrouvailles furent fructueuses et le rêve devient enfin réalité: a la porte un programme de développment autonome direction Madagascar pour deux ans!!!!!😎

Alors a vos bout de doigt pour nous conseiller, la region Morondave!!!!

Quelqu'un s'y connait? On y trouve quoi? La culture? Ils sont animiste mais encore? La plage accessible? On prend quoi avec nous? On part deux ans, il n'y aura ni eau courante ni électricité, le soleil ce couche a 18 heures parait-il? Quelqu'un a des idées? Elles sont les bienvenues parce qu'on part un peu dans le néant malgré les recherches internet....

Bonne route

Nous deux...

Désireux d'aller passer 5 semaines en Thailande, peut-on sans problème louer une voiture sans chauffeur et sans guide ou bien est-ce qu'un chauuffeur ou guide est fortement conseillé voire indispensable?

bonjour,

je vais sans doute partir en vacances a Paques a Siurana (a 1h30 de barcelone) pour grimper et sur le

retour sans doute m'arrêter a Girone ...

dans ma région (Marseille), il est courant que les vehicules "etrangers" (i.e. tout ce qui est a l'exterieur du departement pour les voleurs des bouches du Rhones) soient visités ... a Barcelone, c'est, semble t'il une pratique courante ...

En est il de même a Girone ... auquel cas, je prefere laisser ma voiture ouverte que de la retrouver avec une vitre en moins ....

Par avance, Merci

bonjour! je voudrais savoir s'il est possible de trouver des petits jobs, comme des boulots saisonniers par exemple, en Amérique Latine. Si vous avez des adresses, je suis preneuse!

😮 Bonjour,

Je souhaite partir cet été au groenland avec mon sac a dos et ma tente.

Je ne trouve pas d'informations concernant ce pays !!

comment faire ?? Merci par avance

orisonic

Revenant d'Andalousie et étant tombée amoureuse de cette région, j'aimerais trouver des plans boulots et apparts (ou squatts) afin de m'y "installer" dès septembre. J'aimerais en effet travailler sur place pour essayer de visiter entièrement cette région qui, d'un point de vue historique (et esthétique!!) est d'un e richesse inouïe!!

J'espère que vous pourrez m'aider, Merci et à bientôt.

c’est en réponse à une certaine Anne vivant en Turquie et qui considère que c’est une affabulation que de dire que l’on peux aller en prison pour un simple fossile d’oursin acheté légalement dans une boutique à touriste. Je suis désolé de la contrarier, je m’appel Marc et c’est à moi que cette histoire est arrivée. Je viens de sortir de prison grâce à une caution de 6000 euros que m’on père à du payer pour m’a libération. Vous allez croire peut-être, que j’avais acheté une véritable antiquité d’une valeur inestimable et bien non c’était un simple fossile d’oursin qui se vend par centaines pour une valeur entre 1 et 5 millions de livres turque. Notre guide ne nous a rien dit, pourtant il en connaissait les conséquence. La vente est interdite, pourtant les commerçants non jamais été inquiété. La seul chose que je sais, s’est qu’a l’aéroport d’Antalya on a fouillé mes bagages, que l’on a sorti mon fossile et que l’on m’a arrêté. La première nuit j’ai dormi sur une planche en bois. Le lendemain j’ai du subir tout se que l’on fait subir aux pires criminels. Après quoi on m’a jeté dans la prison D’Antalya. Nous étions 15 dans la cellules que des étranger. C’est là que j’ai appris qu’il était monnaie courante que d’arrêter de temps en temps un touriste pour ces raisons. Une centaine par an pas plus n’y moins. J’encourais une peine de prison allant de 5 à 10 ans et que seul mon jugement déterminerait si l’on m’accorderai de sortir ou pas en payant une caution de 6000 euros.Vous devinerez les angoisses que j’ai du subir pendant les 43 jours que j’ai attendu avant d’être jugé. Pas le droit de téléphoner pas le droit d’écrir sauf en Turc un isolement total accompagné de malnutrition, racket, la douche tout les 10 jours il fallait tout payer même son électricité. Un Allemand de 37 ans s’est pendu dans la cellule. Il avait ramassé un caillou, non, pas une pierre antique, non un caillou et s’était là, la raison de son incarcération. Mon avocat sur place a fait un très bon travail, il a rassemblé beaucoup de preuves, il est même retourné en Cappadoce prendre des photos des étalages des commerçants. Accompagné de la police et d’un arquéologue il a fait faire une déposition au vendeur qui m’avait vendu le fossile. Mais tout ça n’a servi a rien.Le but final de se complot était de me soutirer 6000 euros. Mais cette histoire m’a coûté bien plus, 12000 euros, un casier judiciaire et un préjudice morale et physique du au condition de tétention.

Marc

Voilà... Je voudrais partir une année (ou plus) en Espagne / sept. 2003... Dans une ville sympa, vivante où je suivrais des cours d'espagnol et de danse. Barcelone me tentait mais les locations me semblent hors de prix... Alors, si l'une ou l'autre ville espagnole vous a séduit, ou si au contraire, il y en a à éviter, n'hésitez pas à m'écrire: TOUS les conseils sont les bienvenus (concernant les locations, possibilités de jobs, ect, ect...). MERCI d'avance!!!! Alice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* "Chimique" is a series of synthetic cannabinoids

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hello. In 1996, we crossed Vietnam from Saigon to Hanoi by motorbike—Minsk bikes we bought in Saigon. I haven’t been back since, and it seems like a lot has changed.

- We’re heading to the south (well, the north and center) with the family in July-August (3 people).

- Is the road network more developed now? Back then, there was only National Route 1 from south to north. I’m thinking of renting a car this time (no motorbike with the family—though in ’96, they had a Jawa sidecar for sale, and we hesitated… maybe it’s for the best).

- Is Halong Bay really something to avoid because of overtourism? Even back then, it was pretty crowded. Is there a less touristy alternative?

- We’ll be traveling from Hanoi down to Danang (the only city we didn’t stop in back in ’96). Even though it’s a bit overhyped in a Chinese-tourist kind of way (from what I’ve read), we’re only going for the beach—pure relaxation for 7 days. The beaches are stunning, and I know the South China Sea is warm like coffee.

- Then, we’ll visit Hoi An, where I stopped in ’96. It was already popular with backpackers back then, but no glowing boats or all the touristy fuss!

- After that, Hue, where I have great memories—it’s a beautiful city.

- And also the nature around Ninh Binh, followed by 2-3 days in Hanoi.

That’s the plan. I’d love to hear any tips to avoid mass tourism, and if anyone’s done this before: - Is it possible to rent a car in Danang and drop it off in Hanoi?

Thanks, and long live the Nam! !

Hi there,

We’re planning to hike the GRR2 this summer with a local agency that offers a self-guided south-to-north route. We’re active and hike regularly, but we’ve never done a trek just the two of us without a guide.

I’d love to know if this trail has any dangerous areas? Drop-offs? Are there spots where it’s easy to lose the path?

I’ve seen that some agencies offer a GPS app—does the signal even reach everywhere inland? 🤪

Thanks! 😄

Looking forward to hearing from you! !

Hi everyone,

We traveled to Norway in the summer of 2025, from July 17 to 29, to visit Senja Island and the Lofoten archipelago with a rental car. The common thread of these twelve days was clearly hiking, along with a few visits and experiences, and nights spent in a tent or in the car (which made it possible). We chose Narvik Airport for both arrival and departure for several complementary reasons: the desire to visit nearby Senja Island, slightly more affordable airfare, and finally, the rental price of the vehicle—especially the car model we were looking for. We only made one reservation, for the first campsite, as sleeping in a tent made things much easier. But we had the whole structure of the trip planned, a flexible outline that could adapt to the weather conditions we’d encounter. Senja Island isn’t part of the Lofoten archipelago, and during the early stages of planning this trip, we hadn’t planned to visit it. But its relative proximity to Narvik Airport and, above all, its unique geography definitely made us change our minds. We arrived in Evenes, where Narvik Airport is located, nearly 60 km from the city itself. Our first stop was 40 km further in Bjerkvik on the way to Senja, where there’s a Rema 1000 (a very common supermarket chain in Norway). We needed to buy some food and a gas cartridge for our stove. I’d emailed the store manager beforehand, who told me they didn’t sell them but that the two gas stations in the village were likely to have some in stock.

It was only at the Esso station that I found what I needed, but unfortunately, only one cartridge. Luckily, we quickly realized that most campsites (like in Iceland) have a shared kitchen with hotplates. That single small cartridge was just enough for the few nights we spent outside of campsites... We got our first taste of Norway’s characteristic landscapes:

When we arrived at the Senja campsite, it was already 9:30 PM. A sign announced it was full, but luckily, I’d booked it 10 days earlier. By 10:30 PM, as we settled in to eat, it was still broad daylight, and the thermometer read 25°C—despite being at a latitude of 69° North! We went to bed around midnight, exhausted but under the light of a sun that was still very much present. Thanks to Earth’s tilted axis. We’d anticipated this by buying opaque sleep masks because, yes, at this time of year, it’s daylight all the time.

Friday, July 18:

Today, we planned two hikes on the island and a few stops along the way. The map clearly shows that the deepest fjords are in the north and west. Due to time and accessibility, we focused on the northern part of the island. Our first stop was at the viewing platform in Bergbotn:



Then we headed toward Skaland, the starting point for our first hike. Along the way, we found plenty of reasons to stop—especially since, on this first day of travel, our thirst for Nordic landscapes was far from quenched.



The town of Skaland is very practical: free parking, picnic tables for after the hike, and a Joker convenience store right next door. Our goal was the summit of Husfjellet: 670 m of elevation gain, between 8 and 9 km in length, and an estimated 4 hours and 30 minutes.

This hike offers two major viewpoints. The first overlooks the Bergsoyan islands to the west:



At the summit, the view shifts to the Steinfjorden fjord:



You can even clearly see the "Devil’s Teeth," which we’d see from below later:



In total, the hike took us 4 hours and 30 minutes, including all the breaks. We treated ourselves to an ice cream in Skaland to recharge for the next hike. We hit the road again and stopped at Tungeneset to get a closer look at the Devil’s Teeth:



We continued to Fjordgard, the starting point for our second hike. Fjordgard isn’t very welcoming. There was a time when you could park right at the start of the hike up Mount Segla. Now, everything’s blocked off, and locals have even taken to blocking all possible parking spots nearby. You now have to park outside the town at a paid parking lot (90 NOK for 3 hours), adding an extra 2 km (round trip) of walking. Still, that was just a minor inconvenience because the hike that followed quickly made us forget all about it. The hike is fairly short (2 hours) but still has 520 m of elevation gain. This hike was a stark contrast to the first. This morning, we had sweeping views of the vast landscape. Here, Mount Segla, perched on the edge of the cliff, dominates the foreground:





For those prone to vertigo, it might be best to stay at the foot of the mountain, as the trail climbs right along the cliff edge. And from that point on, you quickly understand what verticality really means...



In total, we took 2 hours and 50 minutes, including breaks and the extra walk to the parking lot. The day was already well underway, and with 1,200 m of cumulative elevation gain, it was time to find a spot to eat and sleep. Since we hadn’t made any reservations, we’d planned to bivouac for the night. We weren’t too picky—just practical—so we decided to sleep in the car at the parking lot for tomorrow morning’s hike, just 5 km from Fjordgard.

Hello everyone! :)

Our next trip to Thailand is coming up, and we just can't wait! We talk, eat, drink, and dream Thailand 😏

Our itinerary is mostly set, and we’ve found quite a few new things to explore, but I’d still love to hear your recommendations for Bangkok. Just so you know: we love this city, and every time we visit, we spend several days there without ever feeling like we’ve seen it all. So this year, we’re staying for 8 days! Here’s what we have planned this year: * Exploring Nonthaburi * A day trip to Nakhon Pathom (to test out our basic Thai skills 😛) * Khlong Lat Mayom floating market (we went 10 years ago—it’s probably changed a lot!) * The Erawan Museum (we visited Muang Boran on our last trip) * Finally taking the time to check out Wat Phra Sri Maha Mariamman and Wat Yannawa (we’ve planned to go several times but never made it—are they worth a visit?)

This is what we’ve picked so far, but I’d love to hear about the favorite spots and recommendations from travelers who, like us, adore Bangkok.

Thanks in advance for your help!

Laetitia and Benjamin.

Hi there,

I’m heading to Brazil soon—Rio, Iguazu, Paraty, Ilha Grande.

Two things are worrying me: - Mosquitoes and the nasty diseases they carry: are there a lot of mosquitoes and risks in these areas in May? - Safety: what’s the current situation in the tourist areas I mentioned?

Thanks for any info!

Virginie

Hey everyone, I wanted to share a little feedback on our first trip to Senegal, hoping it might help others who are on the fence about taking the plunge. We went in mid-February with my wife and our two daughters (6 and 9 years old), for 15 days in Saly, on the Petite Côte. It was our first time in West Africa, and honestly, we fell in love with the place. We landed at Blaise Diagne Airport, and right away, the change of scenery hit us. The weather was pleasantly warm, the people were super welcoming, and it felt like we’d arrived somewhere where time moves differently. The ride to Saly was by taxi, and I’ll admit, the first encounter with Senegalese traffic was a bit of an adventure! 😅 But you get used to it fast—it’s lively, colorful, and there’s a lot of honking, but there’s a kind of logic in the chaos. We rented a small apartment in Saly Niakh Niakhal, a 10-minute walk from the beach. It was perfect for the kids: huge beach, golden sand, warm water, and not too crowded. We went every morning—the girls built sandcastles, we chatted with the street vendors (who were really friendly, not pushy at all), and my wife quickly became addicted to iced bissap juice. We did quite a few excursions: Bandia Reserve (the kids loved the giraffes and zebras roaming free), Gorée Island (a deeply moving experience, especially visiting the House of Slaves—it really puts things into perspective), and Lake Retba (which was a little less pink than we’d hoped, but the 4x4 tour was worth it!). Fun little story: one day, we went to the market in Mbour, and our 6-year-old daughter was given a mango by a vendor just because she said “Bonjour Monsieur” with a big smile. It might seem like nothing, but those little gestures of kindness are what stood out the most during our trip. Senegalese people have a natural warmth and friendliness you don’t find everywhere. That famous “Teranga”—you really understand what it means when you’re there. Food-wise, we ate grilled fish every other day, the girls discovered a love for chicken yassa, and I fell for thiéboudienne (with plenty of spice 😅). We also tried dishes at local spots—never got sick, and always felt welcome. The trip back to Dakar was relaxed; we’d planned one night there before our flight. On our last evening, we sat on the corniche, watching the ocean and the sun set slowly. The girls didn’t want to leave. And honestly... neither did we. So, if you’re hesitating about discovering Senegal with your family, go for it. Sure, it’s different. But that’s exactly what makes it so refreshing. Happy to answer any questions! – Nico.

Hi everyone,

I’m trying to figure out how to get from Paris to Marseille or Montpellier with non-disassembled bikes by train in early July 2025... and it’s a total flop!!! Can’t find any trains that offer the bike-on-board option! It’s so complicated between SNCF-CONNECT, OUIGO, and TER INTERCITÉS!!! Nothing’s simple! I want to take my teens and their cousins on a bike trip to the Camargue, but I’ll have to start planning way ahead to sort out bike transport!!! So glad I found VoyageForum for tips! !

Hi, I’d like to meet new people in Bordeaux to plan future trips to Japan, Israel, and the United States. I’m also hoping to find opportunities to practice Japanese and English, pick up some basics in Hebrew, and connect with interesting folks.

Hello there,



As mentioned in the title, this is a travel journal focused on St. Lucia and iSimangaliso ("this place is miraculous" in Zulu) over various trips spanning about twenty years.

The Elephant Coast stretches from Hluhluwe Umfolozi, through St. Lucia and iSimangaliso, all the way to the Mozambique border near Kosi Bay and Tembe. This region was conquered by the Zulus (for context, in the 19th century, the Zulus were just one Bantu group among many—it was a local Napoleon, Shaka, who was both cruel and inventive, conquering and subjugating all other groups to form the Zulu nation). The Tonga were the big losers in this area, and a certain "animosity" is still very noticeable... With our two guides (one Zulu and the other Tonga), we ran into some Tonga folks—definitely not a warm atmosphere. The Tonga were pushed back into the marshes. Fish traps are their main source of wealth. (iSimangaliso is a lagoon and marshland area with several interconnected lakes—it used to be called Vetland Park, and for good reason.) So, lakes, fishing with fish traps...





Traditionally done with raffia boats



Made from forest raffia



Where we spotted a particularly rare and endemic bird (whose name I can’t remember... and I can’t be bothered to dig through my notes)

Here, those are eagles

And they’re pretty brave because... they’re not far away...





Yet we still swim there... with supervision...



So, between St. Lucia and Mozambique, you’ll find marshes, lagoons, lakes, and coastline, with our Tonga friends, Zulu friends, and—just a bit further up—the Tembe... and their king. (I’m showing off a bit because I got to see a king up close, ate in the same room as him, and even talked to him!)

Originally, the Boers tried to farm there... including sugarcane...

But... between the hippos, snakes, crocs, and malaria-carrying mosquitoes... They lost count of the deaths and disappearances.

The story goes that when Madiba (Mandela) came to power, he passed through the area and convinced them to turn it into a natural space that would attract tourists—and that’s when the big change happened.

And it’s pretty incredible to see how this place has evolved, going from extreme poverty to a certain level of gentrification... How this once "chaotic" area saw shops, roads, and housing spring up (I’m mainly talking about Mtubatuba, the nearby Black town). In fact, in St. Lucia now, the homes that aren’t tourist accommodations can be counted on one hand.

St. Lucia has become a "seaside resort"... very busy during school holidays and certain weekends, increasingly cosmopolitan (20 years ago, speaking French was exotic—now it’s completely ordinary).

So, on these rainy days, I’m finally getting around to writing a little travel journal about the Drakensberg.

The Dragon Mountains, known as uKhahlamba in Zulu and Maluti in Sotho or Tswana.

Roughly speaking, we can break it down into: * The far north in the Free State at Golden Gate NP (managed by Sanparks, while the rest is run by KZN Wildlife). * Royal Natal National Park with the Amphitheatre, Sentinel Peak, and its famous "hike" (which I won’t talk about since I’ve never been there—it’s still on my to-do list!). * Cathedral Peak and Didima * Monk's Cowl * Giant's Castle * Hihghmoor and Kamberg * Sani Pass (which I haven’t visited in ages and won’t cover here).

Highlands Mountain Retreat is the place to stay in Golden Gate if you can snag it. When the weather’s nice, the view is absolutely incredible—probably the most beautiful I’ve ever seen in South Africa!

Just a heads-up: it’s stunning but high up and cold, even *very* cold. The bungalows are cozy, and the little road leading there is charming. The park offers hikes ranging from easy to tough, but be warned—the maps are... not very clear or reliable, and we ended up on an endless, exhausting trek. There are plenty of animals (mostly antelopes, so not super diverse in terms of wildlife), hikes as mentioned... game drives on a paved road, and various walks. You feel remote but aren’t *that* far from civilization.

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.

Hi there,

I just booked my round-trip flight ticket to visit Cuba for two months, from January to March 2025. I’ve heard about the challenges Cubans are facing and the recent changes the island has gone through—economically (like the end of the dual-currency system) and administratively (the introduction of an e-visa)...

This is my first time visiting the country, so I’m still figuring out all the administrative steps I need to take before I go.

1) Can I apply for the electronic e-visa now (still 22 €?) from home on the website evisacuba.cu?

2) I read that I need to fill out a form 48 hours before departure on the site dviajeros.mitrans.gol-.cu/inicio. Is it possible to do this now to save time?

3) I’m a bit confused about the currency. From what I understand, there’s now only the Cuban Peso. Should I exchange my euros at the airport, or wait until I arrive at the *casas particulares* in Havana that I’ve already booked and ask the owner?

Thanks in advance for your help!

Hi there,

I’ve got a few questions about my upcoming 3.5-week trip to Tamil Nadu and Kerala (January 2025).

On the itinerary, we’re supposed to spend 3 or 4 days in Thanjavur (Tanjore). I thought the location would let us explore the surrounding area, but I’m realizing everything I want to see won’t fit into the schedule! I’d planned: 1 day to arrive from Pondicherry 1 day to go to Darasuram 1 day to go to Tiruchirappalli 1 day to head to Madurai with a stop in Chettinad Basically, we won’t see anything of Thanjavur itself! Should I skip one of the destinations?

In Kerala, after 3 days in Munnar, I’ve planned to spend a few days in Munroe Island since I didn’t get great feedback about Alleppey. I wanted to "wander" through the backwaters. Has anyone been there?

Finally, we’re ending the trip in Cherai. After booking, I realized the beaches seemed unusable (trash, rough sea...) and I’m pretty frustrated about not being able to swim. Unless there’s a better spot nearby?

Thanks for your input!

Bonjour, J'avais pris 2 billets pour Hawaii en février 2020 directement auprès de la compagnie American Airlines sur leur site français americanairlines.fr , pour un départ en octobre 2020.

Je reçois cette semaine un email m'indiquant un changement dans mon billet, alors qu'en fait ils ont annulé un des 3 vols, celui Londres - Los Angeles.

Je les contacte sur leur numéro surtaxé, et elle me dit qu'en effet c'est bien une annulation et non une modification. Elle annule donc la totalité et me dit très gentiment que je serai remboursé, qu'il me suffit d'en faire la demande sur prefunds.aa.com

Je viens de recevoir leur réponse, ils refusent et me proposent un avoir ce qui est totalement illégal : Your trip is non-refundable, but don’t worry. The unused value of your ticket is safe, and you’ll be able to use it toward future travel.

Il y en a quand même pour 2000 euros ! Et je ne veux pas de leur avoir, qu'ils me remboursent et je rachèterai si je le veux et si la situation le permet, là ils prennent en otage mes 2000 euros.

Est-ce que quelqu'un a le même problème que moi avec cette compagnie ? Pour ceux qui ont commencé des démarches de médiation ou de justice, où en êtes-vous ? Merci