Results for "Meaux+|+127"

Well, here we go, despite the lack of info on Zambia, I managed to pull off this pretty special trip. I’d posted asking for tips but got very few replies. So I leaned heavily on Giradhino’s travel journal to plan the route.

The context: After visiting Kenya, then Namibia, then Botswana, I wanted to see another Southern African country—hence Zambia. This time, we’re two couples: us (of course) and our friends we’ve traveled with to the last two countries mentioned. The idea was to do a self-drive trip, picking up a 4x4 at the airport and figuring it out as we went.

We rented our fully equipped vehicle from Hemingways, an agency in Livingstone. Great agency (really), I’ll talk more about them later. It came with rooftop tents and all the gear for cooking and everything... However, our goal was to sleep in lodges and only use the tents as a last resort. Mission accomplished—we never even unfolded the tents. Guess we’re getting old 🙂

The route (summary): Lusaka - Kasanka NP - Bangweulu NP - Mutinondo - Kapishya - North Luangwa - South Luangwa and back to Lusaka.

That said, let’s hit the road for this travel journal of a pretty lively trip. Reminder: I’m more of a filmmaker, so I’ve got tons of footage but very few photos. The ones I have were taken on my phone, so they’re not great quality. My wife’s the one who handles that side of things.

Day 1:

At 9 a.m. sharp (or close enough), we leave the Lyon area, heading to Paris CDG. Our flight’s at 9:30 p.m., but it’s a busy Saturday with holiday traffic, so we play it safe to avoid jams—especially since the Olympics (hosted in Paris, in case you didn’t know) are causing extra traffic issues.

We’re relaxed and happy to be on our way. The drive goes smoothly. We take the eastern route around Paris to reach a hotel with parking at a better price than the airport lots. We leave the car there, and a shuttle takes us to Terminal 2. Bad luck—we’re actually flying from Terminal 1! The transfer between terminals is quick, though, so no stress.

After the usual formalities (with Rwandair), we end up in the Duty Free.

A rare rant-free moment: Usually, I let off steam in my travel journals now and then, but this time it’s the opposite. I had a terrible memory of CDG and had been avoiding it for years. But this time—Olympics effect? A big change? What a pleasant surprise! The staff were plentiful and super friendly at every pre-flight step, making everything easier. Comfortable seats for waiting to board. Well done, CDG!

We buy Ricard, Jack Daniel’s, and Get 27 to handle any situation that might come up. We board on time, and that’s when our adventures with Rwandair really begin. Yep, the first hiccup!

We’d booked our tickets back in October and (since we don’t hold back!) had paid extra for preferred seats on all our flights. Since October, we’d received emails about schedule changes—just a few minutes here and there. Unfortunately, we never got an email saying that *on top of* the schedule change, the plane’s configuration had also changed. So when we boarded with our seats (all four of us together at row 25), we were furious to see that the preferred seats were now row 23. We’d been *completely* scammed. We’d paid extra to end up in seats we’d been trying to avoid! You could say Rwandair double-dipped on the same seats. What a rip-off! We tried to negotiate an upgrade, but the flight was full. So our flight to Kigali started with a real sense of anger.

The +: We’re on our way The -: Rwandair

Hello, My current dream for a potential (last?) big trip during our winter of 2026 is mentioned in the title. I’m particularly interested in the ship "Exploris One" (17 nights on board in January-February 2026), operated by the French company EXPLORIS (founded by former Ponant team members), and it seems to be a fully French-speaking experience with a maximum of 120 passengers. The most competitive offer I’ve found so far is through "Croisierenet.com".

So far, we’ve only sailed and landed as far as Cape Horn (with Australis), but beyond the Antarctic Peninsula itself, it’s especially South Georgia and the richness of its wildlife colonies that appeal to me the most (and the least appealing part, of course, is the price! 🤪)

For those of you who’ve sailed along and set foot on these lands—were you truly won over and did you feel, in plain terms, that "you got your money’s worth"? If by any chance you know Exploris, what can you say about it? Same for the reliability and seriousness of Croisierenet.

Given the sums involved, is it wise to wait a few more months before deciding, hoping for bigger discounts as the departure date approaches, while counting on cabin availability in my preferred category? Currently, Exploris is offering discounts of -35% off the listed catalog prices for 2025 cruises and only -25% for 2026... On the other hand, could international flights from Paris to Buenos Aires become more expensive in the meantime? (But it seems the clientele for these cruises is marginal for this international flight, and January-February also appears to be significantly cheaper than November, especially for direct round-trip flights with Air France.)

Thanks for your feedback and any other wise advice! 😉

My train to Mathura is at 2 PM, and we’ll arrive an hour late—all good. I booked a hotel on booking, but unfortunately, it’s really far from the ghats. Walking there is out of the question—what a shame. The hotel itself is fine, and there are several restaurants right across the street, which will be handy for dinner. This won’t be an exception, though—starting at 10 PM, they must wake up because I can hear them talking loudly, and music is playing along. My room faces the entrance, so it’s going to be tough. At midnight, I ask them to lower the volume, but they don’t listen. By 1 AM, I lose my temper, and this time, everything stops. Finally, I can get some sleep—until 4 AM, when they start up again for a little while before quiet returns until 6 AM. But when do they sleep? The noise never seems to bother them—it’s unbelievable, and I’m finding it harder and harder to tolerate. It makes a huge difference. The next morning, as I leave, they tell me they’ll give me another room for the following night. Oh, two nights like that wouldn’t be possible—I’m exhausted. I head out to explore the ghats and take a rickshaw, which I share with a family, to Vrindavan, a city of temples dedicated to Krishna. I visit several while wandering through the lively streets, surrounded by a crowd of devotees. By 1 PM, I’m near the Bankey Bihari Temple, but I can’t go in—it just closed. Nearby, there are restaurants, so I take the opportunity to grab my usual aloo paratha with a lassi.





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



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





the neighbor with its beautiful dome.

Let’s catch up with a new travel journal from July 2024—only 6 months late, no biggie!

We’ll be talking about this gorgeous island, its tail end, wildlife (old habits die hard), and the sheer joy of it all 🙂

MOROCCO END 2024 / BEGINNING 2025 Off-season, I was lucky enough to negotiate hotel prices. I should also mention that this was for a solo traveler until December 30th. After that, there’ll be three of us! Practical info. Here’s all the info I gathered during my 3-month trip. Cities: TANGIER / CHEFCHAOUEN / FES / MOULAY IDRISS, VOLUBILIS / AZROU / MIDELT / ERRACHIDIA / RISSANI / MERZOUGA / TINGHIR / BOUMLANE DADES, AIT OUGLIF / OUARZAZATE / TALIOUINE / TAROUDANT / TIZNIT / TAFRAOUT / SIDI IFNI, LEGZIRA / AGADIR / ESSAOUIRA / MARRAKECH ///

From there, we’ll be three people. Cities: IMLIL / OUARZAZATE / AGDZ / ZAGORA / AIT BEN HADDOU / MARRAKECH / ESSAOUIRA / CASABLANCA. (Generally, I found that mattresses in Morocco were quite hard. My solution: I put two, even three folded blankets on the mattress to add some softness. Wi-Fi almost never works in the room.)

Tangier: Hôtel Fuentes Petit Socco, Old Medina +212 539 934 669 (For one person, end of October) Upon arrival, 19 € for a double room with a private bathroom. Breakfast included. Chefchaouen: Dar Besmellah Av Ibn Askar +212 539 986 489 (For one person, end of October). I don’t recommend it. A small, low-ceilinged room with a window facing a patio. Very dark and damp. Shared bathroom. 9 € Dar Bleu Pearl N° 4 Derb Benyaakoub +212 (0)539 88 28 86. Negotiated on-site to 130 MAD instead of 160 on Booking. Small room, furniture, Wi-Fi, private bathroom. Fes: Riad Alfredo or Riad Rocco—it’s the same place. It’s in a very narrow alley. N° 15 Derb Sidi Kjih or Qjih Talla Sagira +212 662 769 688 (see photos and virtual tour) Negotiated to 13 € on-site; on Booking, it was 16 €. Breakfast included. Atypical Anne room with private bathroom, Wi-Fi. The room is a bit dark. One of the best beds on my trip. Again, this was for a solo traveler off-season (end of October to end of December). Moulay Idriss: Gite El Menzeh (see the map) Negotiated on-site to 14 € with breakfast; on Booking, it was 24 €. I also negotiated for dinner—very good and hearty—for 5 € (the manager wanted 20 €). I stayed in the large upstairs room with a double bed, window, and private bathroom, not the tiny windowless rooms downstairs. Azrou: Hôtel des Cèdres Place Mohamed V. (see the map and photos) Negotiated 13 € instead of 16 € on Booking for a room with two small beds and a private bathroom. This hotel is honestly run-down and not worth the price at all. The owner thinks it’s a very classy hotel because of its old reputation! Midelt: Chez Ali, city center (see map) Negotiated to 14 € instead of 17 € on Booking. Room with two beds, bathroom, window, small terrace, and Wi-Fi. Er Rachidia: Hôtel El Fekri. Rue Moulay Abdalah Ben Ali (see map and photos) Couldn’t negotiate on-site—14 €, but on Booking, it was 5 € more! Rissani: Hôtel Restaurant Panorama +212 615 978 445 Well, I’d say skip it. Rooms without windows and shared bathrooms. Or on the terrace, there’s a sort of space with a big bed and a small bed behind a locked iron door with a window and an external bathroom that’s also used by people eating on the terrace. If there are people on the terrace, forget about privacy! Not to mention the internet doesn’t work, and the bed is as hard as a straw mat. All that for 150 MAD—luckily, I didn’t book through Booking, or it would’ve been more expensive!!! I didn’t stay. This closet isn’t even worth 100 MAD—and even that’s too much! A little further on, I went to a hotel where no one spoke English or anything else. I got a large room with 3 beds, a private bathroom, and Wi-Fi for 100 MAD. Merzouga: Said’s apartment +212 618 659 264. No real address—it’s right next to a souvenir shop, far from the center. (see photos) 15 €. The apartment is large with two bedrooms and all the comforts. But for me, it was too far from the village. Chez Belkecem: Marked on GPS. I don’t have any coordinates (see photos). +212 666 911 732 Negotiated on-site to 13 € with breakfast; on Booking, it was 2 € more. The room is decorated in a Berber style, with a private bathroom and a window to the outside. The worst breakfast I had in Morocco! Tinghir: Dar Al Medina Av Mohamed V (see map) Beautiful hotel negotiated to 13 € instead of 18 € on Booking. Breakfast included, Wi-Fi, room with a double bed and a single bed, window, and private bathroom. (Top floor) Boumlane Dades: Auberge Tamazirt (no contact) see GPS. Negotiated to 13 € with breakfast. It’s rustic, but I had a private bathroom, a large bed, Wi-Fi, a window, and a double bed. And the best part—the super-friendly owner gave me one of the gas heaters from the hallway. Aït Ouglif: Hôtel Aït Marghad. (See the map) Negotiated to 150 MAD instead of 240 MAD with breakfast. The place was half-closed because it was off-season. Room with a double bed on the ground floor, window, Wi-Fi, and bathroom. Heating provided—essential. The hassle was that there was almost no hot water. Ouarzazate: Hôtel Atlas 13 rue du marché +212 524 887 745 It’s on the pedestrian street. (See photos) Negotiated to 13 €. Old-fashioned room, double bed with a very hard mattress. Private bathroom, window, and Wi-Fi. Taliouine: Hôtel Le Safran. A 20-minute walk from the center—no other choice. Otherwise, there are a few local hotels, but even if I’m not always picky, there are limits. (See the map) Negotiated from 300 MAD to 200 MAD. Breakfast, Wi-Fi, window, king-size bed, private bathroom. The room is large (No. 11). (There’s a pool in the hotel.) Hôtel Atlas Bordeaux: +212 666 752 292 (next to the bus station) Usually, I’m not too picky, but honestly, skip this one. This place could be good because it’s central if: the cleaning was thorough. The bathrooms need to be redone... etc. No sheets—just a sort of blanket on the mattress and another to cover yourself. Obviously not clean. No towel. A bathroom that hasn’t been cleaned in way too long. In short, absolutely avoid. 120 MAD! Taroudant: Hôtel (mini) Atlas Bld Mansour Eddahbi (see map and photos) Double room with window, large bed, private bathroom, Wi-Fi (not great). A hotel that doesn’t look like much but is sparkling clean! 90 MAD for a single, 120 MAD for a double. Tiznit: Résidence Chem (see map) 100 MAD for a room with two single beds (very hard), window, private bathroom, and Wi-Fi. Clean but poorly maintained. Tafraout: Espace Tifawine (see the map). Hotel with a pool. Negotiated to 14 € on-site instead of 30 € on Booking. I could even choose my room. A large room with two beds—one big and one small. A large bathroom, a window, and Wi-Fi. Sidi Ifni: Hôtel Suerte Loca. (No contact, see GPS) I paid 140 MAD for a room in this dive—no negotiation possible. My room had a tiny terrace, the walls were repainted, but it’s super noisy (neighbors). Worse, when someone uses the water, there’s a loud machinery noise. That’s not all—the mattress is really worn out and sagging. The bathroom isn’t great. The Wi-Fi doesn’t work! This place still enjoys its old reputation, but it’s really run-down, and everything is old. The bedding is the worst I had in Morocco. Skip it. There’s much better for cheaper elsewhere! Hôtel La Belle Vue: Just before Suerte Loca +212 528 875 242 The reception staff was more than unfriendly. After seeing the rooms, I didn’t stay because the bedding would’ve been like sleeping on a yoga mat. Obviously not worth the 200 MAD asked for. Hôtel Aït Baamrane. Further down on the beach. Same price as above. The only difference is that everything is in good condition and comfortable, with a warm welcome.

Hôtel Safa: (see the map and photos.) On-site, no negotiation possible—200 MAD; on Booking, it was over 350 MAD. Huge room with all the luxury you could hope for. Breakfast included, large bay window, king-size bed, TV, Wi-Fi, furniture, and of course, a private bathroom. Agadir: Hôtel Kamal (see map) The only hotel I booked through Booking because there was a good discount. Except on-site, the hotel never wanted to give me the discount. At night, small insects that strongly resemble cockroaches—yet it’s high-end with doormen, etc. I contacted Booking, but nothing worked! I paid 250 MAD! Essaouira: Hôtel Elkasbah Souiria (See map and photo) Small room (No. 18) with a single bed and all the comforts. Private bathroom, window, Wi-Fi, and breakfast included (all-you-can-eat buffet). No negotiation possible—200 MAD. Chez Lina: Rue El Khemiset +212 658 042 562 (she speaks French) Large apartment with two bedrooms. Private bathroom on the landing. Wi-Fi. New, so not yet well set up. Far from the center. I paid 15 € instead of 18 € on Booking. Marrakech: Hôtel Atlas 50 rue Sidi Bouloukate +212 661 358 662 Tiny room on the ground floor with a shared bathroom. Wi-Fi, tiny window, very dark and noisy. 12 €

On December 31st, I’m joined by friends. The rooms will be for three people. Marrakech: Hôtel Agnaou 10 avenue or passage Moulay Rachid. +212 705 306 275. Negotiated on-site to 28 € for a room with a window to the outside and a private bathroom. Wi-Fi. Riad Todos: in the old medina +34 643 480 502 Watch out for extra taxes they might try to charge you. No heating. This place could be nice if better maintained. Bad smell of cat urine. Water leak in the bathroom. Wall crumbling from humidity. However, the reception staff is warm and tries to satisfy you. 120 MAD booked on Airbnb! Imlil: Auberge de la Vallée (see map) Large room with 4 beds. All comforts. Private bathroom, heating, Wi-Fi, and breakfast. Negotiated on-site to 300 MAD for three people. Ouarzazate: Hôtel Iazal: Av. Moulay Abdellah +212 524 886 187 (see photos) Very expensive for this hotel. Small room for 3 with a tiny, impractical bathroom. Heating, Wi-Fi, window. The showerhead is placed between the tiny sink and the toilet. The small space floods quickly. Far from the pedestrian center. No negotiation possible—350 MAD for three. Agdz: Guesthouse Le Chant des Palmiers. (See map) Very nice room—more like a small apartment with a fireplace corner, gas heating, private bathroom, Wi-Fi, windows, bedroom area plus two single beds. Breakfast included. Negotiated to 400 MAD for 3 people instead of 840 MAD on Booking. Zagora: Hôtel La Palmeraie. (See map) Room with bathroom, Wi-Fi (not great), heating, and window. Breakfast included. No negotiation—300 MAD (for 3). Aït Ben Haddou: Auberge La Barraka (see the map) Large, beautiful room with windows, Wi-Fi, heating, bathroom. Breakfast included. Pool. Negotiate a good price—but I didn’t note it down. (Around mid-January) Essaouira: El Kasbah Souiria. (See above) Room for three. Same benefits. No negotiation. 500 MAD. Casablanca: 664, Résidence Clémentine BD Mohamed V, Roches Noires. +33 6681 48002 Large, upscale apartment. Not far from Casa Voyageurs train station. Booked on Booking. 45 € (Last day, January 16th). Upon arrival, the price is always a few euros cheaper than on Booking—except in rare cases. Then, negotiation is possible or not! Prices vary depending on the season.

A few good places (for me) to eat.

Fes: Chez Hakim. (See map) Very good, hearty, and almost cheaper than anywhere else in the medina. Ouarzazate: Pasto wood-fired oven Place Al-Mouahidine +212 696 484 281 It had been a long time since I’d eaten such a good pizza (better than in most restaurants in France). At a price that beats all competition! Midelt: Berber Restaurant. (See map and photos) A dive that doesn’t look like much but is delicious at a more than affordable price. Marrakech: Dar EL WALIDIN Raid laahrouse, Rte Sidi Abdelaziz +212 653 493 637 Great selection, good food, and also cheap!

(At Jemaa el-Fnaa square. Under the warm welcome at restaurant « Chez Ali N° 65 », we got scammed out of 7 € when paying the bill! Experts at swindling.) Azrou: Snack La Forêt (see map) Again, good food at a low price. Merzouga: Snack Alafrah VOLUBILIS: The price has gone up to 100 MAD. Honestly, if you’re not an archaeology buff, it’s not worth it! BANKS: The best exchange rate I got was at BMCI. For ATMs, I paid the least fees at Banque Populaire. TRANSPORTATION:

Airport taxi Tangier to Petit Socco: 100 MAD Train: Fes to Meknès Al Amir: 35 MAD Casablanca to Airport: 60 MAD

Grand Taxis: (Shared taxi for 7 people that only leaves when full. I never waited more than 15 minutes to leave. There’s good turnover, and the vehicles are in good condition. They go faster than buses and are almost always cheaper. Prices are fixed, and you don’t pay the driver but the station chief!)

Meknès to Moulay Idriss: 12 MAD Moulay Idriss to Azrou: 35 MAD Midelt to Errachidia: 60 MAD Errachidia to Rissani: 40 MAD (I preferred this option rather than leaving at night or very early in the morning from Errachidia to Merzouga with Supratour, the only company that goes to Merzouga.) Rissani to Merzouga: 15 MAD Taliouine to Taroudant: 45 MAD (The bus is cheaper but takes longer) Taroudant to Inezgane: 35 MAD (Agadir suburb) I connected directly to Tiznit. Inezgane to Tiznit: 35 MAD Tiznit to Tafraout: 45 MAD (2-hour trip) Tiznit to Sidi Ifni: 35 MAD Agadir to Essaouira: 100 MAD Essaouira to Marrakech: 100 MAD Imlil to Marrakech: 35 MAD Grand taxi for three to Imlil: 220 MAD BUS: Tangier to Chefchaouen: 65 + 5 MAD baggage CTM Chefchaouen to Fes: 135 + 5 MAD CTM Azrou to Midelt: 50 MAD local bus Merzouga to Tinghir: 110 + 5 MAD Supratour Tinghir to Boumlane Dades: 30 + 5 MAD Supratour Boumlane Dades to Ouarzazate: 30 MAD minibus Ouarzazate to Taliouine: 60 MAD Satas company Sidi Ifni to Agadir: 95 + 5 MAD CTM Agadir to Essaouira: 70 MAD Trans Al Yamama Essaouira to Marrakech: 65 MAD Argana company Marrakech to Essaouira: 60 + 5 MAD Virago Mogador company Essaouira to Casablanca: 100 + 5 MAD

Sidi Ifni: To go to Legzira, there are green shared buses that leave every 2 hours for 6 MAD. Petit Taxis: You have to negotiate hard—the price can double. Example: In Fes, they asked me for 50 MAD from the bus station to the Blue Gate. By walking a bit further and being patient, I got a taxi for 20 MAD! Another example: From Agadir’s bus station, they asked for 40 MAD to go to Hôtel Kamal. In the end, I paid 15 MAD! Here’s all the practical info I gathered during my trip to Morocco from late October to mid-January. It’s up to you to see if it’s useful or not.

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



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



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



We spot peacocks and monkeys.





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



We walk around the palace, and I discover another stepwell that’s not worth lingering over.

The tour is over, and I had a great time despite the fatigue. We head back down to Alwar, near the City Palace, which has been turned into administrative offices. Gaju (the driver’s nickname) finds a parking spot near a dhaba where we have lunch (paneer masala, chapatis, chai)—it’s delicious. With my energy restored, we head to the palace. On the top floor is a museum that I visit.



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



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



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

Hi there,

I’ve got a bit of time to share my latest Cape Town – Cape Town trip... A fairly short itinerary, but it was just before heading to Kruger for an extension. In May... Honestly, I’d usually recommend a different time to visit CT—I’ve been there in August, September, and October before. But as they say, "Do as I say, not as I do" or "Only fools never change their minds." Why? Whale season peaks from August to October... and seeing whales right by the shore or breaching out of the water is absolutely spectacular. The end-of-year holiday period—take this year, for example—can get absolutely packed, with beaches closed due to overcrowding, etc. June and July are freezing (for me)... early August isn’t always great either. That said, 2024 saw a September-October with rain, cold, and fog like never before. The Postberg section of West Coast National Park (WCNP) is only open in August and September. Flower season is roughly from mid-August to mid-September.

So, May... The weather? Gorgeous (lucky me!). The route... Not super original (I’ve done it before, though it’s been a while). I didn’t go too far from CT because I prefer slow travel. Cape Town – Langebaan (for WCNP, again) – Cederberg (at Mountain Ceder, again) – Bontebok NP (new to me, and on the way) – De Hoop NR (at De Hoop) – Agulhas NP – Boulders (for Boulders Beach and the peninsula, again and again).

The trip started off badly due to storms in Frankfurt... My overnight flight was delayed until the next day, but via Amsterdam, so a daytime flight instead. A bit stressful, but Lufthansa and KLM handled it well. Now it was my turn to sort things out... "Well, I need you to keep the car for me... I’m arriving tonight!" (aroundaboutcars, a Chinese Haval, blue and 4x4—though I didn’t actually need the 4x4... which waited for me).



"Well, I need you to keep my room for me... I’m arriving *very* late tonight." A hotel perfectly located by the lagoon, right by the gates of WCNP, but still close to Langebaan and its restaurants. I spotted it myself and booked it during Black Friday...





Yep, what was normally a short 1.5-hour drive *in daylight* from the Mother City to Langebaan... was now *at night*. And here I am, usually the one telling people, "Don’t drive at night, folks!" Well, I know the route, and Google won’t let me get lost... until Langebaan, that is. The last few kilometers were rough—"Don’t they put up signs? Don’t they have streetlights?"

Alright, it’s late, the day’s been long—time for bed! !

After about 12 hours of flying from Toulouse (via Paris), we landed in Bogotá six years after our first trip to Colombia. This time, our journey will be very different, with only this stop in the Colombian capital in common. Our travel itinerary Bogotá / La Macarena (Caño Cristales) / Villa de Leyva / Barichara / San Gil / Girón / Mompox / Ciénaga and the Santa Marta lagoon / Minca / Los Naranjos (Tayrona Park) / Bogotá. Step 1: Bogotá (and Nemecon) Bogotá (1/3) This morning, we had a meet-up with Flora from Aventure Colombia, who helped me organize one of our stops, a few transfers, and tomorrow’s day trip, the program of which I changed at the last minute after deciding to skip the visit to the Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá. Flora is a kind and lovely person, always available, and she did everything to answer my questions and give me advice. She’s a local contact I highly recommend. Flora can help you plan your trip, whether you want a fully organized tour or, like us, just need assistance with a specific stop or one or more transfers between cities. We left Flora after setting a meet-up for our return to Bogotá in a month. As we walked out of her agency, we headed to the wonderful Gold Museum, located just a hundred meters away. I was excited to revisit this amazing museum. Note: Free entry for those over 60, regardless of nationality. Just show your passport. Like six years ago, I was amazed by its museography, the beauty of the pieces on display, and that breathtaking shamanic room.





About two hours later, we decided to walk (careful, it’s a climb!) to the Monserrate cable car (3152m). Long wait to buy tickets and board the cable car! Once we arrived, a few raindrops, an impressive panoramic view of Bogotá’s vastness, a quick visit to the basilica (a pilgrimage site for Colombians), a walk through the tourist market, and at the top, plenty of small restaurants where we had our first Colombian meal. After our hearty lunch, we were lucky to see the sun return! No line for the descent. We then headed back to the hotel because Justine wanted to rest and recover from the trip. As for me, I continued my walk. I discovered a really nice craft market recommended by Flora, Pasaje Rivas, returned to Bolívar Square, and wandered through different streets, including the main pedestrian avenue (Calle 7), where there’s always something to see.



Tomorrow, a change of scenery as we head out for a hike in a small desert (Desierto de Chueca), located about 2 hours from Bogotá in the village of Nemecon. For this outing from Bogotá, with Flora’s help, we booked a car with a driver for the day. Flora also took care of booking the guide (since the site can only be visited with one). Nemecon (2/3) Today, we went to Nemecon to hike about 7.5 km in the ‘Desert of Checua.’ It’s nothing like sandy deserts! Instead, it’s geological formations sculpted by time, wind, and water. After two hours on the road—almost one of them spent navigating traffic jams with cars, trucks, buses, and a continuous flow of motorcycles on either side of our taxi—we reached Nemecon! The village center is really (too?) quiet. We met up with Deisy and headed toward the ‘desert,’ about twenty minutes away on a bumpy dirt road. Once there, a quick briefing, and off we went! Deisy didn’t stop talking (in Spanish) for over 3 hours!!! She told us so much about her region (flower farming, water management, traditions, songs, etc.), the origin of the site, and even mentioned Antonio Banderas, who filmed *The 33* in the village’s salt mine (the story of the survival of 33 Chilean miners after a collapse in their copper and gold mine). One hour of walking to reach the site, one hour to explore it, and one hour to return.





The advantage of this non-stop chatter was that it forced us to brush up on our Spanish at lightning speed. I even wondered if the effort to concentrate wasn’t more exhausting than the physical effort! Especially since on the way back, I got an oral quiz. Deisy wanted to make sure I remembered some of the information she’d given me during the visit: why is this rock white, that one red, and that one black? Back in the village, we had lunch at a restaurant recommended by Deisy before visiting the Nemecon salt mine. Before entering, a guide spent a good half-hour explaining the origin of the salt and the presence of many fossils in the area. Again, concentrating was tough because all the comments were exclusively in Spanish! An hour and a half wandering through the tunnels with a ‘lovely miner’s helmet’ on our heads!







We met our driver at the mine entrance. The return to Bogotá was a bit faster, but traffic in the city center was still heavy! We arrived in front of our hotel between 8:00 and 8:30 PM. It’s been a pretty intense start to the trip! Tonight, our legs are tired. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a bit more relaxed! Bogotá (3/3) We started the day by visiting the Santa Clara Church Museum, located next to the presidential palace. Alejandra (from the local agency ‘Gaia Tours Colombia,’ which organized our stay in Caño Cristales (La Macarena)) had recommended this visit for its rich mural paintings.



A few hundred meters further, after crossing the Plaza Mayor again, we visited the cultural complex housing the Botero Museum, the Mint Museum, and the Bank of the Republic Art Museum. Note that entry is free for all three museums. Botero Museum: There are fewer works by Botero here than in the Medellín museum, but more paintings and sculptures by other artists, all from Botero’s private collection (donated to Colombia). Mint Museum: We limited ourselves to visiting one room (on Flora’s advice) where three gold and gemstone monstrances and a Christ with a crown of emerald thorns are displayed. Photos are not allowed. Art Museum: We visited two temporary exhibitions. Lunchtime came quickly. We had a good meal at a reasonably priced small restaurant in the La Candelaria micro-district, near the Chorro de Quevedo square. We decided to spend the afternoon wandering the streets and alleys of the historic center to discover local street art.



We also passed through very lively pedestrian streets. I also decided to revisit Pasaje Rivas to show Justine all the shops selling more or less artisanal products. Tomorrow morning, we fly to La Macarena at 10:30 AM. Not to dance (you’d be surprised if I told you we were going to take a South American dance class, right?!), but to visit the fabulous Caño Cristales, a river naturally colored by aquatic plants. The planned program includes hiking, horseback riding, canoeing, and swimming among these plants. This site was long inaccessible because the area was controlled by the FARC. Access and tourism development became possible after agreements and amnesty measures between the Colombian government and paramilitary groups. As in other regions, former FARC members have been able to transition into various tourism-related activities.

Back on the forum, I’m starting to write up two 3-week trips to Kenya in August 2021 and 2023. In 2021, Quynh and I traveled with Régis (Rjulie95 on VF). Our son joined us in Baringo for the second half of the trip. In 2023, we went with two friends who’d been dreaming of seeing wild animals ever since we got back from Kenya. We didn’t need much convincing to go with them!

The two itineraries are almost identical (well, when you love something...) but we did make a few tweaks.

- The first part of the trip was with a local driver/guide, Félix, who was recommended by Sylvie56. Sylvie and her husband Ben are Kenya enthusiasts—they’ve been there countless times, always with Félix... and for good reason! He’s fantastic!

- The second part was with Melting Pot Safari, an agency that adapted to our photography needs. Tony Crocetta, the co-founder (along with his Kenyan friend Simon Chebon), is a wildlife photographer himself.

Here are the itineraries for both trips, including accommodations:

In 2021: Day 0: Paris / Nairobi - 67 Airport Hotel Day 1: Nairobi / Amboseli - Simba Cottage Day 2: Amboseli - Simba Cottage Day 3: Amboseli / Aberdares - Fishing Lodge Day 4: Aberdares - Fishing Lodge Day 5: Aberdares - Fishing Lodge Day 6: Aberdares / Samburu - Riverside Camp Day 7: Samburu - Riverside Camp Day 8: Samburu - Riverside Camp Day 9: Samburu / Nakuru - Merica Hotel Day 10: Nakuru / Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge Day 11: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge Day 12: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge Day 13: Baringo / Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp Day 14 to 18: Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp Day 19: Maasai Mara / Nairobi – Roussel Guest House Day 20: Nairobi / Paris

In 2023: Day 0: Lyon / Paris / Nairobi - 67 Airport Hotel Day 1: Nairobi / Meru - Ikweta Camp Day 2: Meru - Ikweta Camp Day 3: Meru - Ikweta Camp Day 4: Meru / Samburu - Riverside Camp Day 5: Samburu – Riverside Camp Day 6: Samburu / Buffalo Springs – Samburu Simba Day 7: Buffalo Springs / Ol Pejeta – Sweetwater Camp Day 8: Ol Pejeta / Amboseli - Simba Cottage Day 9: Amboseli - Simba Cottage Day 10: Amboseli - Simba Cottage Day 11: Amboseli / Nakuru – Lake Nakuru Lodge Day 12: Nakuru / Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge Day 13: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge Day 14: Baringo - Tumbili Cliff Lodge Day 15: Baringo / Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp Day 16 to 20: Maasai Mara – Meltingpot Bush Camp Day 21: Maasai Mara / Nairobi / Paris

Here’s an itinerary—it’s not exactly what we did, but a combination of both.



Ready to join us on safari to see some wild animals?

Hi everyone, I’ve spent two solid months reading the Lonely Planet and pretty much every post about Thailand here, plus French and English blogs. Now I’d love to get your expert opinions on our itinerary. We’re heading off in August 2025 with our 7-year-old daughter. We only have a maximum of three weeks off, and I’m keeping an eye on flight prices before booking (1400 € per person really stings 😕). So here’s what I’ve planned—let me know if you spot any major issues or if I’ve been way too "optimistic."

D1 - Arrival in Bangkok / rest, quick visit, overnight stay D2 - More temple visits, etc. D3 - Morning flight to Chiang Mai D4 - More Chiang Mai sightseeing D5 - Day trip to Chiang Rai (guided tour to book: blue and white temple), return to Chiang Mai late in the evening D6 - More Chiang Mai visits / Elephant Nature Park in the afternoon D7 - Morning flight to Koh Samui, sightseeing D8 to D10 - More Koh Samui visits D11 to D13 - Ferry to Koh Phangan D14 to D15 - Ferry to Koh Tao D16 - Return to Koh Samui, then flight to Bangkok D17 - Day trip to Ayutthaya, return to Bangkok in the evening D18 - Flight back to France :(

I know a lot of you recommend heading straight to Chiang Mai to recover from the international flight, but my partner and I NEVER sleep on planes (personally, I’ve been flying to Taiwan since I was little and have never slept more than an hour on a 14-hour flight...), so it’s essential for us to rest upon arrival . That’s also why I opted for domestic flights instead of the sleeper train—I know we’d lose over 10 hours and wouldn’t be able to rest properly in those conditions. And I’m sure you’ll also say BKK > North > South is too much for three weeks, but I really want to see as much as possible. Given how much the flights will cost, I’m not sure when we’ll be able to come back 🏴‍☠️.

So, questions: 1. Since we’ll only be in Bangkok for a maximum of two nights and need to easily reach the airport with luggage (and a child), which neighborhood should we prioritize? We’d love to experience the evening vibe of Asian night markets, ideally within walking distance of the hotel or just a few metro stops away. I’ve looked at Chinatown, but the BTS seems far... Should we go for somewhere near BTS Saphan Taksin or BTS Krungthonburi? But is the area lively in the evening with food courts, etc.? We’d also like to treat ourselves to a hotel with a pool.

2. Have we planned too many days in the south? Should I skip Koh Tao and just do Koh Samui + Koh Phangan? My partner and daughter aren’t strong swimmers, so we’re looking for beautiful beaches without too much current. Crowded beaches don’t bother us—we just want stunning turquoise waters without killer waves . Going all the way to Koh Tao and then back to Koh Samui to catch the flight to Bangkok seems too stressful. Is it still possible these days (I haven’t seen any recent posts on this) to head to Koh Samui in August and decide on the spot how many nights to spend in Koh Phangan or Koh Tao based on how we feel, booking hotels as we go? Or is that too risky?

If you have any better suggestions for fitting all this in while reducing internal flights, I’m all ears for your great tips

Alright, this year, we're heading back to South America!

The initial plan was to retrace the route we imagined in the summer of 2020: a trip to northern Argentina starting from Córdoba.

Unfortunately, the flight to Córdoba no longer exists, and airfares to Javier Milei’s country are both outrageously priced and involve multiple layovers.

So, I tweaked Google Flights every which way and finally found a flight within my budget—departing from Clermont-Ferrand!

Not to Argentina, though...

Our transatlantic flight will cross the snow-capped Andes, landing in Santiago, Chile, with a return from Lima!

In between, two domestic flights and a big road trip loop starting from the coastal city of Arica to explore the treasures of northern Chile.

Our mode of transport: a pseudo 4x4 that won’t take us through sand dunes or devilish tracks but will let us tackle the entire secondary network, including unpaved main roads, while still being insured.

Is the suitcase packed with all-season clothes?

Are the driver’s license and passport ready?

Bank cards and a few euros too?

Off we go for just over 3 weeks of southern wanderings!



--/--

To keep all my esteemed readers on track, here are a few maps outlining the Arica-Arica loop!

1- From Arica to San Pedro de Atacama via Pica and the Salar de Huasco

2- Around San Pedro



3- From San Pedro to Cariquima



4- From Cariquima to Putre



5 - From Putre to Arica



Gas stations in this part of Chile are located in Arica, Iquique, Pozo Almonte, Pica, Calama, and San Pedro de Atacama.

October 7, 2023, is a sunny day in Milan. Since morning, in this light, I’m WhatsApping with Afrooz in Tehran, and I decide to call her. A lively, joyful conversation—French with that Farsi accent becomes a wonderful language. Suddenly, everything feels possible. Isfahan, Shiraz, Damavand, Yazd, Yazd, Yazd—a delicious word savored endlessly—become within reach. Iran, so longed for, is finally here. Pure joy, absolute enthusiasm. Six months to plan and relish a trip before living it.

Then I open *Le Monde*.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Frozen. Empty. No. We decide to wait, not to give up right away, pretending to believe—just a little, just to keep from collapsing—that with this wretched human race, the worst isn’t necessarily certain. It is.

So... meh, Madeira? The Azores? Uzbekistan (a pale substitute)? New Zealand? Greece. Again, always. Nestling into the only European promise we’ve been given. Indulging in illusions, for the pleasure of it.

So, train from Milan to Ancona (9 AM–12 PM), a typically Marchigiano lunch (Italy is paradise for food lovers), a stroll through the city, then at 4 PM boarding the *Olympic Champion*. Arrival in Patras the next afternoon, car rental, and off to Lepanto—Nafpaktos today—to reminisce about glorious victories and pay tribute to Cervantes, who lost a hand there before writing.

That’s the plan, anyway. The train is unusually on time. The ferry, replaced in the meantime by the *Hellenic Spirit* (why not? Even if it’s less suited to the season), is 3 hours late, then 4, no 5, then finally 6—oh wait, 7. And on top of that, it’s pouring rain in Ancona, and the port waiting room closes at 6 PM. Great...

At 11 PM, the ferry’s lights emerge in the pitch-black night. We jostle through the downpour, board, and sleep well in a cozy cabin with the white noise of the engines. Then:

23 hours of rest. Of forgetting.

In this time of general travel-journal scarcity, I’m stepping up to tell you about a far-too-short getaway to the Top West End, a local term for the very northern part of Western Australia, right on the border ( ;) ) with the Northern Territory.

As usual, I didn’t manage to keep it short, but this time I’ve got photos to go with it!

August 2020. Since the opportunities to explore the world are extremely limited right now, all we (R&X) can do is explore our own island! Well, just a part of it, because with the state borders still closed, we’re stuck in Western Australia (WA).

Luckily, we’re pretty fortunate because this state is huge: over 2.5 million km² (that’s more than four times the size of France or 1.5 times Quebec). What’s more, stretching over 20 degrees of latitude between the Antarctic Ocean and the Timor Sea, you’ll find climates ranging from Mediterranean to arid to tropical. That’s actually why we decided to head as far north as possible. Sick of the endless rainy winter in Perth, bring on the heat of the Kimberley... way up Nooorth!

Friday. At the airport, the main terminal was closed (not enough flights), so we ended up in the annex (where flights to the various mines usually depart from). There was no crowd at the gate, and in this huge, single departure lounge, empty seats were plentiful. Only three flights were listed on the screens for the rest of the morning: the first to Coondewanna (?), the second to Darwin, and ours to Kununurra (code KNX).

A cool breeze swept through the half-open corridors along the runways. At the top of the walkway leading to the Fokker 100 (the Airbuses and Boeings are now parked!), a flight attendant greeted us with a basket full of sanitary masks. We were actually the only masked passengers (the staff weren’t wearing them either). With zero Covid-19 cases in WA at the time, the only rule was to maintain social distancing—something pretty hard to do on a full plane!

It was also my first time wearing a mask—it felt weird, pretty uncomfortable, and after a while, painful behind the ears. I really feel for those who have to wear one all day, every day. The flight lasted three long hours, but luckily, I had a good book. From the window, I watched an endless expanse of salt lakes in all shapes and sizes—round, elongated, gray, white, sometimes blue and green—and an infinity of winding, capricious meanders, along with long straight lines that led nowhere. The last half-hour got more interesting as rocky, swollen formations and long, sloping plateaus appeared. Against the vast ochre landscape, green patches became more frequent.







Just before landing, rows of green fields briefly appeared, along with an surprisingly wide river—but we were already rolling down the tarmac. A few hangars, a myriad of small, stationary planes, and a tiny terminal topped with a sign: “Welcome to Kununurra.”







We wanted heat, and here it was—34°C the moment we stepped off the plane! We felt alive again and totally ridiculous in our jeans and sweaters. We quickly grabbed our suitcase and picked up the 4x4 we’d rented—more out of necessity, since only that type of vehicle can access the national parks we planned to visit.

Just four kilometers separated us from Kununurra, a town of 5,000 people founded in 1961 during the construction of the Lake Argyle Dam and the development of the Ord River Irrigation Area Scheme (more on that later). On the horizon, mountain ranges (a bit of an exaggeration, since we know Mt. Meharry, WA’s highest ‘mountain,’ doesn’t even reach 1,250 meters!) and closer to the road, a few irrigation canals cutting through stretches of bush, then a huge park overlooking a small lake lined with reeds.

A row of baobabs (yes, there are baobabs in Australia too!), a series of motels with immaculate lawns, a gas station, and there’s the main street leading to the town center—that is, the parking lots of the two supermarkets, the bottleshop, the pub, the Town Hall, the municipal pool, and the Tourist Office (already closed!), and at the next roundabout, another park, the Presbyterian church, and a few other shops. In short, two or three green blocks that you can explore in no time.

One road leads to the small industrial area and one of the town’s three or four campgrounds, while another heads toward the residential neighborhoods, which look just like the typical suburbs you find in any Australian city—except with tropical vegetation. We stocked up at Coles, an identical copy of the one near our place, and—surprise—the prices were practically the same.

We checked into one of the motels. The receptionist listed the town’s three or four restaurants, insisting that it’s always better to book a table. She recommended the Pump House, a bit outside town on the lake’s edge. “Best spot to watch the sunset, but hurry up.” she told us. It was only 5:00 PM!

When we got there half an hour later, the place was packed, and the sun had already disappeared behind a row of trees! Sure enough, we’d see a few days later that the sunset can be a stunning spectacle—if you wait a bit for the sky (especially if it’s cloudy) to blaze and reflect in the lake’s calm waters. A little disappointed, we headed back into town, where we easily found the other lively spot in town: the pub (nothing like an old English pub). Above the long L-shaped bar, several giant screens (thankfully muted) were broadcasting live footy, rugby league, etc. In one corner, players circled the pool table, while in another, customers were digging into plates of the day’s special. Instead of rooms, there were various patios where groups of friends and coworkers (easily recognizable by the fluoro vests they were still wearing) were gathered. We found a table under a mango tree—unfortunately, a little too close to the guitarist strumming his entire Country Music repertoire, complete with Keith Urban-style tremolos. Guaranteed culture shock!

Since it’s the custom here, we called the Country Club to book a table before the kitchen closed! The CC is the town’s—and even the region’s—fancy spot. Dark decor, modern furniture, dim lighting, and the air conditioning blasting. The twenty or so customers had taken refuge on the vast terrace, lit by torches. The view of the tall eucalyptus trees, illuminated by spotlights shifting from red to blue, was breathtaking.

The menu was minimal, but the grilled salmon was excellent, and the Pavlova (the meringue dessert Kiwis and Aussies have been arguing over since 1906) with melon and watermelon was absolutely divine.

It wasn’t even 9:00 PM, and we were already in bed. Had we already adopted the Top West End’s chicken schedule?!

To be continued... Journal dedicated to Attila

Hi everyone,

I was wondering how the coronavirus pandemic has impacted the way you travel or plan your trips. I know some of these points have been discussed before, but what I’m interested in here is the concrete, present, and personal—no politics and nothing post-COVID.

Here are a few ideas—do any of these resonate with you?

- Traveling shorter distances / for shorter durations - Favoring rural or less crowded areas over urban or overcrowded ones - Opting for private transportation over public transit - Traveling solo or at least in pairs rather than in groups - Waiting until the crisis is over and saving money in the meantime - Reassessing health risks (and updating your first-aid kit/medications and vaccinations) - ...

I’m sure you’ll have other things to add. The floor is yours!

Bonjour/bonsoir

Si tout va bien (on croise les doigts) je pars bientôt à Venise, bien sûr très contente de redécouvrir la Sérénissime avec je l'espère moins de monde qu'une année classique.

Comme il a été remarqué sur ce même forum, Venise a beau être une ville unique et magnifique, elle ne semble pas regorger d'endroits pour se poser tranquillement entre deux balades (j'avais un peu remarqué ça lors de mon passage éclair dans la ville il y a des années).

Alors je ne demande pas la lune, je sais que si l'Italie est le pays de la gastronomie (et je compte bien en profiter 😛 ) ce n'est pas celui des salons de thé, mais j'avoue qu'on aime bien faire des petites pauses après avoir marché des heures ou avoir visité un musée, palais, etc. J'aime bien reposer mes pattes 😇

Bien sûr j'imagine qu'on trouve facilement des bars ou s'arrêter boire un café (et faire une pause pipi 😊) mais certains ont-ils des adresses un peu sympas à me conseiller ?

Pâtisseries où on peut s'asseoir ? Salons de thé (soyons fous !), endroit où boire son Aperol Spritz ?

Bien sûr je préfère éviter les trucs trop à touristes (non, pas de Café Florian pour nous) ou hors de prix (genre 10€ le cappuccino, je passe mon tour).

Bon j'ai trouvé un appartement assez central qui permettra au pire de se poser un peu avant de ressortir dîner, mais je suis quand même preneuse de bons plans ! 🙂

Bonjour à tous

Le Vietnam pays magique multiculturel aux paysages diversifiés et époustouflants. Voilà ce que je vous invite à partager sans aborder s'il vous plaît ce qui aujourd'hui empêche la planète de vivre... Essayons d'être constructifs et positivons! Il est grand temps de rallumer les étoiles!

Pour commencer avec légèreté: La médecine des Dao, le bain aux herbes. C'est un moment délicieux après une journée de marche et de visites rien de tel pour vous requinquer! Ce bain est très souvent proposé aux touristes dans le nord, spécialité de l'ethnie Dao il est "accommodé" dans plusieurs maisons d'hôtes et hôtels aux besoins des touristes.

Traditionnellement les recettes sont destinées à chaque cas et en fonction de la pathologie: femmes enceintes ou qui viennent d'accoucher, nouveau-nés, malades, vieillards…les herbes seront donc choisies en fonction des besoins et du type de médication (orale, en bain, en emplâtre...). C'est dès l'aube que les femmes, les hommes, les chamanes iront cueillir ces plantes, racines et écorces dans la forêt, le tout sera combiné à un régime adapté (on ne mange pas de tout..) et souvent suivi d'un massage spécifique.

Nous en avons testé plusieurs à plusieurs endroits mais celui de la chamane Dao d'un petit village au nord de Muong Lay restera sans doute le plus authentique et le plus insolite.. On nous prend en main dès notre arrivée dans la maison de la chamane. Elle y vit avec sa fille et son gendre... Maison, je devrai plus dire assemblage de planches et de tôles et quand on connaît les rigueurs de l'hivers on peut rêver mieux. La pièce principale est bourrée de pots en tout genre remplis de décoctions plus ou moins troubles...ces sont les médications à avaler, beurk.. Il y a aussi de gros sacs (plastique) d'herbes, de racines, d'écorces, un vrai magasin d'herboriste (l'ordre et la propreté en moins) sans oublier bien sur l'hôtel des ancêtres. Derrière des rideaux, les couches des habitants, nous ne dormirons pas là, ouf.. Puis attenantes, les deux salles des bains avec 2 baquets chacune et entre les deux sous une pergola un énorme foyer construit en ciment surmonté d'une aussi énorme bassine où l'eau et les herbes "cuisent" jusqu'à parfois 12 heures...c'est là que l'on fait aussi cuire la soupe des cochons... Le feu est alimenté de poupée de maïs et de bois. C'est dans ces baquets que nous tromperont plus ou moins longtemps...le temps de "cuisson" est décidé par la chamane en fonction de chacun, jamais plus de 30 mm...et les herbes qui seront rajoutée dans les baquets seront aussi choisies en fonction de chaque "malade". C'est très très chaud, il faut vraiment se faire violence pour entrer là dedans et c'est sans compter qu'une fois immergés la dame ajoute de l'eau chaude bien sur...ouille. Une fois "les touristes bien cuits" on nous sort de là, inutile de préciser que nous ressemblons plus à des homards qu'à des visages pâles... Après cuisson, nous serons conduits ensuite vers le silo à grains, où une pièce spéciale massage à été aménagée à son top, on l'atteint via une échelle de bois...au sol deux couches. Ici commence le moment le plus douloureux de tous les massages faits au Vietnam par le gendre et la fille de la maison.. Pas de douces caresses, non, non, mais un pétrissage et un battage en bonne et due forme suivis de torsion, j'ai cru ma dernière heure arrivée... Pour clore la séance nous dînerons chez la chamane d'un souper spécial, la couleur des mets est importante, nous ne mangerons que du blanc et du vert....des légumes et des herbes inconnues de nous et un peu de poulet bouilli, élastique à souhait, sans doute celui que nous avons croisé sur le chemin en arrivant et des petits poissons frits (très bons). C'est sans conteste le meilleur soin reçu au Vietnam si l'on fait abstraction de la propreté des lieux, des serviettes (surtout apporter les siennes) et des moments douloureux.

Bonjour à tous, Ce carnet, je ne pensais pas le rédiger, à mon retour de Bolivie. Certains d’entre vous le savent d’ailleurs. Trop amère, trop choquée.

Et puis heureusement, le temps fait son affaire et estompe les mauvais souvenirs pour laisser principalement les bons. Rédiger ce carnet m’aide aussi je pense à tourner la page sur certains (très) mauvais moments, quand bien même ils datent déjà de huit mois. Certains épisodes auront été riches en émotions….

La Bolivie, j’en rêvais depuis plusieurs années. Envie de grands espaces, de nature, de kaléidoscope coloré. Envie de voir des lamas, des viscaches, des vigognes, des condors. Envie de voir les lagunes, LE salar, les couleurs du désert de Dali. Envie de découvrir l’Amérique du Sud et ce pays encore peu prisé des touristes. Envie de réaliser ce voyage tel que nous le pouvons sans nos enfants : peu de réservations d’hôtels, du camping sauvage et un itinéraire décidé pour les grandes étapes mais ajusté au jour le jour selon nos coups de cœur.

Les carnets lus au fil des mois confirmaient que le Sud Lipez reste accessible en individuel et autonome, même s’il est évidemment préférable de voyager à deux voitures. Mes beaux-parents acceptant de venir garder nos fils quelques jours avant le début des vacances scolaires de la Toussaint, je commence à organiser dès le mois de mai un périple de 16 jours entiers sur place. Depuis plusieurs mois, je m’étais forgé un début d’itinéraire selon ces différents critères :

J’exclus La Paz. Nous visiterons la capitale lors d’un futur voyage au Pérou où nous ajouterons quelques étapes nord-boliviennes. Je choisis d’atterrir à Santa Cruz de la Sierra avant de reprendre dans la foulée un avion pour Sucre. En effet, notre loueur de voiture, Biz Rent a Car, est situé à Sucre et a bonne réputation sur forum, notamment grâce à l’une des employées, Alejandra et sa maîtrise du français. Je prévois la majorité de notre temps dans le Sud Lipez afin de pouvoir admirer notamment les lagunes et le salar. Le carnet d’AirOne me donne envie de découvrir Tajira, région viticole et par conséquent plus verdoyante que le Sud Lipez désertique. Je réserve auprès de Vicente deux nuits dans sa ferme-auberge à Rosillas et un trek d’une journée permettant d’observer les condors Difficultés d’acclimatation liées à l’altitude : ne pas atterrir à La Paz permet déjà d’éviter une mise dans le bain d’entrée à 3600 mètres. Il sera plus aisé d’atterrir à Santa Cruz (416 mètres) et même Sucre (2750 mètres), d’autant que nous prévoyons de partir rapidement sur la région de Tajira (1900 mètres).

L’Amérique du Sud offrant plusieurs pays nous attirant depuis quelques années, mon mari a commencé à apprendre l’espagnol deux ans auparavant. Heureusement, car nous n’avons rencontré que très peu de Boliviens parlant (un peu) l’anglais. Comme beaucoup de voyageurs, nous avions téléchargé des cartes sous Maps.me qui une fois stockées sur les téléphones permettent de circuler sans accès au réseau.

J’apprends dans le courant de l’été 2019 que les élections présidentielles auront lieu pendant notre séjour. Soit ! Ce ne sera pas notre premier voyage en pleine campagne présidentielle. Au départ, je n’y prête pas tellement attention. Et puis fin août, Carmen (Ticapi) m’apprend qu’il sera interdit de circuler lors du premier tour des élections, le dimanche 20 octobre. Après consultation de mon ébauche d’itinéraire, nous avions justement prévu de repartir ce jour-là de Rosillas pour rejoindre Tupiza avant d’enchaîner sur le Sud Lipez. Avec seize jours sur place, nous n’avions pas envie de « perdre » une journée à Rosillas et reporter notre départ d’une journée. Il était également difficile de prévoir le trek le dimanche 20 car Vincent nous a précisé qu’en raison des élections, les villageois ne seraient pas disponibles pour faire office de guide dans la montagne. Il nous fallait trouver un endroit où nous pourrions passer la journée entière sans utiliser la voiture. Pas si simple. Alors finalement, plutôt qu’entamer notre séjour par Rosillas, cette étape sera la dernière de notre voyage. Nous devons atterrir à Sucre le matin du mercredi 17 et je prévois d’y séjourner deux jours. Direction ensuite Tupiza puis Guadalupe et enfin la laguna Celeste où nous resterons la fameuse journée des élections présidentielles à randonner dans les environs. Ça, c’était le programme initial. Ça ne s’est pas tout à fait déroulé ainsi !

Allez, quelques photos pour, peut-être, vous donner envie de poursuivre la lecture de ce carnet 🙂

C'est un voyage qui date un peu, mais il se trouve que les circonstances de la vie m'offrent du temps libre... L'occasion de replonger dans mes souvenirs et partager un voyage qui reste probablement d’actualité même si nous habitons un monde qui change de plus en plus vite...

dimanche 4 juin 2017 Mulhouse-Kigali

Le décollage approche, il faut choisir son Macron, heu, je voulais dire, son livre, pardon. Bon, dans la France du mois de juin 2017, cela revient strictement au même…



09:30 embarquement 11:20 Départ Basel Turkish Airlines (TK1924) 3 heures de vol 15:20 Arrivée Istanbul (heure locale) Changement d'Avion 18:35 TK 569 Turkich Airline

durée 6h30



00:05 Arrivée: Kigali (KGL), Kigali, Rwanda

Je précise que le mobile de ce voyage est que ma sœur vit à Kigali depuis quelques années. Son mari travaille "dans la diplomatie". Nous sommes attendus à l’aéroport par un chauffeur de l’ambassade. Ma soeur nous avait dit qu’ils seraient au lit, que la maison était ouverte et des infos pour retrouver sans aide notre chambre. Ceux qui connaissent mon célèbre sens de l’orientation ont déjà deviné que je suis allé me vautrer directement dans la chambre de nos hôtes…

lundi 5 juin 2017

Kigali C’est le lendemain qu’on a vraiment réalisé qu’on était en Afrique...



Bon, mais faut manger…On part faire des courses en ville, excellent moyen de prendre la température de l’endroit…Avec ma soeur, c’est tout de suite magouilles et compagnies…Elle me fait changer ma bonne vieille puce Bouygues contre une puce MTN locale. Elle alpague ensuite un gamin dans la rue qui tape sur mon clavier des suites de chiffres cabalistiques pour m’ouvrir les chemins d’une 3g low cost…





Comme souvent dans les pays qui se sont déversés dans le courant consumériste trop vite, les villes sont un gigantesque foutoir où l’architecture s’inspire beaucoup des gâteaux à la meringue, on côtoie le pire et le meilleur, un flot d’humains qui se débattent pour survivre, des raz de marée de véhicules, gigantesques 4*4 en concurrence avec des myriades de deux roues hétéroclites…C’est une ambiance, à l’africaine, des sonos déversent de la rumba congolaise, des types jouent au tam-tam…



Partout des portefaix s’activent avec des montagnes posées sur la tête…



On arrive au marché. Ma sœur y est en territoire connu, négocie, interpelle

Bonjour Avec le confinement j'ai pris le temps de faire un gros tri dans mes photos. Beaucoup étaient des photos de plages qui m'ont rappelé de magnifiques souvenirs. Donc je me demandais qu'elles sont les 3 plages qui vous viennent à l'esprit quand vous y pensez et qui vous ont marqué d'une manière ou d'une autre.

Personnellement 3 me viennent à l'esprit car elles étaient calmes, pas aménagées, en pleine nature et quasiment personnes dessus.

1) plage barra velha sur l'île de Marajo au Brésil (en plus j'ai pu louer une petite cabane sur pilotis pendant 1 semaine sur cette plage)

2)Mission beach dans l'état du Queensland en Australie

3) La plage du parc de Cahuita au Costa rica

LHASSA Le 31 mars 1998 je prends l'avion de Chengdu, j'ai acheté le vol avec le permis à une agence locale. L'avion part à 7 heures, je vois le Gongga Shan, ensuite couvert. A l'aéroport, on ne perd pas de temps, aucun contrôle, un minibus neuf nous emmène à Lhassa, Le trajet est déjà long, sur une bonne route le long du fleuve, dans une large vallée, les montagnes sont saupoudrées d'un peu de neige fraiche. Je discute avec Didier, un Français qui prend quelques jours de vacances de son job à Shanghai et nous prenons ensemble une chambre à l'hôtel Yak, très bien, avec un balcon. Lhassa ressemble en grande partie aux villes chinoises, mais ici nous sejournons dans les quartiers tibétains. Il fait froid, surtout le vent, et on ressent l'altitude. Nous trouvons le Tashi, le restaurant Népalais simple qui sert de quartier général aux backpackers étrangers avec un menu à l'avenant, bon on y mange très moyennement. Après une ou deux heures de repos, nous faisons un tour de l'énorme marche du Barkhor, Parmi les étals, de grandes mottes de beurre ! Beaucoup de Tibétains sont habillés de manière traditionnelle. Le soir nous dinons dans un restaurant tibétain peu touristique. 1/4 Nous allons visiter le Jokhang, on brule de l'encens à l'entrée, les pèlerins se prosternent sur le ventre. A l'intérieur il faut suivre le flot en sens impose pour entrer dans les petites chapelles, on monte aussi sur le toit. Didier loue un velo, je vais au Potala avec son dédale d'immenses salles, on ne se bouscule pas, quelques visiteurs tibétains. Je retrouve Didier à la sortie et nous dejeunons de thukpa et de the au beurre salé dans une petite échoppe, entourés de mendiants. Je continue un tour à pied dans le coin, un petit temple sympa, les chortens et les fresques sur les rochers derrière, puis je continue dans le Lhasa moderne et ses supermarchés. On n'a pas le droit de visiter tout le Tibet par soi même, le soir je discute au Tashi avec d'autres voyageurs pour un tour organisé a Samye, mais cela coute cher, nous devrions être 6 pour remplir le 4x4, et finalement cela ne se fera pas. Je vais plutôt voyager seul aux endroits qui sont autorisés. SERA 2/4 Nous allons à la boulangerie et achetons un picnic. A 10 heures 30 nous prenons le minibus numéro 5 pour le monastère de Sera, avec les pèlerins tibétains, on fait ensemble le tour des principaux halls et chapelles, il y a des moines et de l'activité. Puis nous profitons du plein air, nous trompons dur à flanc de coteau au dessus du monastère jusqu'à un autre petit ou nous sommes bien accueillis. Nous jouissons d'une belle vue sur Lhassa et ses énormes banlieues modernes. Nous voulons assister a la séance de débats des moines, mais cela nous est interdit. Après cela, nous revenons crevés. Nous dinons au Third Eye d'un très bon repas népalais, le service a été lent. GANDEN 3/4 Je me lève à 6 heures, je sors dans le noir et le froid dans la ville endormie pour attraper l'unique bus de pèlerins qui va au monastère de Ganden, avec ses sièges très serres et tous remplis. La bonne route se transforme en piste et cela se termine par 20 ou 30 lacets. Je suis venu seul, je suis les tibétains à l'intérieur, les moines sont sympas, dans une salle ils prient et dans une autre ils chantent. Plusieurs grands bâtiments ont été reconstruits récemment dans un style ancien, je visite l'imprimerie des prières. A l'extérieur, je fais le tour de la kora, très tranquille. Je monte ensuite un chemin vers un petit sommet avec un peu de neige, pour mon picnic. Belle vue sur la vallée avec ses hameaux, les champs bruns, les troupeaux de yaks. Le bus revient à 1 heure, je suis assommé par l'altitude. 4/4 Didier retourne a Shanghai, du coup je change de logement pour un hôtel moins cher, le Kirey, des rangées de chambres simples sur plusieurs étages autour d'une cour, avec des sanitaires communs. La chambre est propre et tranquille, et je rencontre Michel, un Français qui séjourne souvent au Tibet, on discutera beaucoup et il va me conseiller utilement. J'ai attrapé un rhume, je me repose, je me ballade aussi dans le vieux quartier jusqu'au Jokhang et la mosquée. Le restaurant Tashi, possède une copie du meilleur guide du Tibet, le très épais 'Tibet a pilgrimage guide' de V.Chan, qui couvre des endroits peu connus, décrit des randonnées avec des cartes schématiques, je l'étudie pour préparer la suite du voyage. Le soir je trouve dans le quartier un excellent petit restaurant sichuanais avec un menu en Anglais, le Yuyi, qui sert d'énormes portions. DREPUNG 5/4 J'ai un problème dans le haut du dos et je ne me sens pas assez en forme pour déjà commencer des excursions aventureuses loin de Lhassa. Je vais juste en minibus au monastère de Drepung, j'en fais le tour, y compris les bâtiments en ruine à l'arrière, je me promène le long d'un ruisseau et monte à flanc de coteau jusqu'au petit temple de Gephel Ritro, aussi des etables ici. Je reçois du the tibétain et du pain. Le temps change vite entre soleil, greles, et nuages esthétiques. TSURPHU 6/4 Je continue ma tournée des monastères. Tôt le matin, je vais prendre le bus des pèlerins pour Tsurphu, déjà plus éloigné au bout d'une piste affreuse dans une vallée scénique, villages, paysans savourant leur champ avec des yaks. Je suis mal assis à l'arrière et très secoué, il y a un seul autre touriste. Tsurphu est un grand monastère, en travaux, avec beaucoup de jeunes moines, et domine la vallée. Les pèlerins viennent ici pour la bénédiction à 12 heures de la réincarnation d'un lama très vénéré, le Karmapa, un enfant de 12 ans , mais je n'y vais pas. Je préfère faire la kora et aller manger mon picnic dans la montagne, j'ai pris l'habitude d'acheter des pains ronds chez un boulanger musulman.

Allez on se retrouve en Asie cette fois pour tutoyer le toit du monde 😛 Là internet commençait à pointer le bout de son nez, VF en 1999 je sais pas si ça existait, en tout cas je ne connaissait pas 🙂. Il y avait la possibilité de partir tout seul et de trouver un guide, des porteurs sur place ..... J'ai préféré passer par un agence spécialisée dans le trekking pour réaliser se voyage !

C'est un voyage de 22 jours que je vais vous conter !

Le groupe est constitué de 15 personnes, dont l'age va de 23 à 62 ans. Mise à part un couple particulièrement pénible tout le monde à fait les efforts nécessaires pour que le voyage se passe bien. Des parties acharnées de Uno tous les soirs ont grandement contribué à la bonne humeur du groupe et des porteurs qui ne comprenaient pas pourquoi un jeu de carte pouvait nous faire autant rire.

Le guide un accompagnateur en haute montagne, c'est en grande partie grâce à lui si le voyage c'est aussi bien passé il a toujours était disponible pour tout le monde et il a su désamorcer tous les petits conflits, inhérent à ce type de voyage, dans l’œuf.

Vendredi 21/04/2000 : Paris Katmandou

Le rendez vous est fixé 20 heures à l'aéroport Charles de Gaulle, pour un décollage à 23h30 la compagnie que nous allons prendre est Pakistan Airlines ce qui est loin d'être le top. Nous partons finalement avec 1 heure de retard. J'adore les consignes qui sont ponctués avec un à la grâce de dieu 🤪, J'ai dormi tout le long du vol, dors du sommeil du juste jusqu'à notre première escale Islamabad, capitale du Pakistan. Maintenant j'ai plus de mal à dormir en avion pas parce que j'en ai peur, mais avec l'age j'ai besoin d'un peux plus de confort 😇

Nous allons prendre notre deuxième avion à destination de Katmandou terminus de notre voyage, bonjour les formalités dans l'aéroport 4 contrôles de passeport et des bagages de soute, alors que nous sommes toujours dans la zone franche. Nous atterrissons à l'aéroport de Katmandou, un court transfert en car nous fait découvrir la ville, les premières impressions sont la pauvreté et la pollution qui entourent la ville, nous finissons par arriver dans un magnifique Hotel, dans le centre de la ville, vers 17 h 50. Le temps de déposer nos affaires, nous descendons manger et direction le lit.

Là vous vous dites quelle mémoire, ben non faut pas croire, j'ai pris des notes pour ce voyage et je les ai encore 🙂

Pour le moment mon record d'altitude ( 5 895 m) va-t-il être battu ? Vous le saurez en me suivant

A demain

bonjour,

J'ai fait une simulation vol Paris-Papeete avec french bee pour un départ dans six mois. ça donne la "modique" somme de 1.200 A/R. Vous confirmez pour ceux qui ont fait récemment le trajet ?

Ensuite Papeete-Hiva Oa avec Air Tahiti c'est environ 700 euros A/R. Soit près de 2.000 euros rien que pour les vols.

Avez vous de meilleurs plans ? Je précise que ce serait pour le mois d'octobre, donc pleine saison pour la Polynésie si mes sources sont exactes.

Bonne journée.

Le carnet de Christian alias Eiger m'a donné une idée. Pourquoi ne pas moi aussi vous raconter mon premier grand voyage qui remonte à 1992 ? Mon premier safari et la découverte de l'Afrique de l'est à jamais enraciné dans mon cœur avec l'Afrique Australe.

Bon à l'époque je débutais dans la photographie, donc c'est pas spécialement brillant et mot est faible ! Les photos ont été à l'époque directement scannées et transférées sur CD par Kodak.

Il restera ancré à tout jamais dans ma mémoire comme mon premier grand voyage ! Ma grand mère, ma mère me traitent de fou 🤪 Mon père ancien marin dans la marchande qui a fait plus de deux fois le tour du monde, m'encourage 🙂

N'ayant pas l'esprit aventureux de certain, un niveau d'anglais moyen et pas de temps à perdre en recherche d'information sur place, je passe par une agence de voyage qui a toujours pignon sur rue et qui organise des voyages en groupe.

Le voyage durera 23 jours et sur la fin les relations furent un peux compliquées.

Le voyage sera découpé comme cela :

Kilimandjaro Safari - Ngorongoro et Serengeti Zanzibar Retour par le Kenya

After several discussions on VF about travel journals from the Philippines, I decided to write this curiosity: a trip report from a journey made in 1984, when traveling to the Philippines was still an adventure.

A curiosity because writing a travel journal about a trip 35 years later isn’t common, but also (mostly?) because exploring the Philippines at that time had little in common with traveling there today.

Obviously, I’ve forgotten a number of facts, most of the details, but with the help of a few notes from that time and a stack of slides (yes, there was life before digital 😊), many memories came back and added to the highlights I’d never forgotten. The scanned slides aren’t always great quality, but there are still quite a few to brighten up this chatter. Back then, we didn’t snap photos like we do now—film was too expensive—so I don’t have pictures of every place we visited... too bad, comparing some of those spots to how they look today would’ve been interesting.

Why "Adventures"? Why call it "Adventures" in the Philippines in 1984, a word so often used for a simple exotic trip? - Because the lack of information (no *Guide du Routard*, no *Lonely Planet*, no *Michelin Guide*, nothing, and obviously no internet) gave this trip what’s at the heart of adventure: the unknown. - Because the political situation made the stay sometimes dangerous. - Because transportation conditions were always epic, often perilous. - Because the question of where we’d spend the night came up almost every evening. - And for... quite a few other reasons.

That said, we weren’t exactly explorers!

Why the Philippines? First of all, why go to the Philippines in 1984—a country not exactly set up for tourism and about which we knew very little? How could we get an idea of the beauty of the Philippines and its points of interest when we had no guides or photos?

The idea came to us from Thailand a year earlier, during our first long-haul trip. After touring the north of the country, we met a Frenchman living in Phuket, where there were only a few tourists in Patong, with just a few small hotels and guesthouses. Kata and Karon had no buildings or roads, Rawai only had three palm-thatched bungalows, including ours, and the other islands were unknown to tourists. There was plenty to discover, and we wanted to return to this beautiful country... but the Frenchman made us dream about the Philippines—a country to explore, with wild landscapes.

Long evenings of discussion over multiple Sprite-Mekong cocktails (what memories of those headaches!) finally convinced us we had to go to the Philippines.

Episode 0: Before Departure The decision was made: we’d go to the Philippines in May 1984. Our friends and family were surprised when we announced we were going on vacation to the Philippines (a bit like saying today we were going paddleboarding in the Kerguelen Islands 🤪).

These days, preparing for each of our trips takes long evenings of research, planning, and noting down good addresses... etc. But for the Philippines in 1984, preparation was quick: we had very little information about the country, we were leaving almost at random, and the discovery would only be more exciting.

We still had a few bits of info gathered here and there: the rice terraces in northern Luzon, volcanoes, Negros where we were supposed to visit an acquaintance, Cebu and its marine life (we ended up going elsewhere), and absolutely avoid Mindanao, which was practically at war with the regime. That was about it, but it was already a great itinerary.

Nothing was organized in advance; we’d see day by day. We had no idea about travel times or even the existence of transportation options. The main (and sometimes only) way to connect two islands was by overloaded, rusty ferry. Only the big cities had airports.

Let’s Go: Episode 1: Paris to Manila My travel journals always start after arriving at the airport—the Europe-to-“Other Continent” trip isn’t interesting—but the flight to the Philippines was already an adventure, so I’ll make an exception.

This was the era when only a few Asian airlines were on par with Western ones: Thai, Singapore Airlines, and Philippine Airlines. They had beautiful, brand-new planes, and to attract customers (almost exclusively “businessmen”) from the usual airlines (Air France, Lufthansa, British Airways), there was opulence on board: unlimited champagne, all sorts of cocktails... Compared to today’s long-haul flights, there was still one small difference: no personal screens, just one screen at the front of the cabin with one mandatory movie. And I don’t know why, but we only got James Bond films, both ways... that must’ve been the trend at the time.

The tourism boom to Southeast Asia hadn’t started yet, and the “Asian Tigers” weren’t a thing, so there weren’t many business trips. That meant long-haul flights made stops everywhere to fill the planes. Our Philippine Airlines Boeing 747 left London, picked us up in Paris, then stopped in Frankfurt to take on a few Germans. I don’t know why we then made a stop in Dubai—a totally exotic place at the time. There was nothing to do there... things have changed a lot since. It was a small town lost in the desert. The airport was tiny, with just one or two buildings and a supermarket. During the stopover, everyone had to get off the plane and walk to the supermarket. Photo and electronic equipment were dirt cheap—I guess that was the only reason for the stop. Maybe it was their first commercial move. Emirates didn’t exist yet, as I checked online, but anyway, the idea that such a remote place could have its own airline was unthinkable.

Online, I found this photo of Dubai Airport in 1980. Anyone who’s transited through today’s massive airport with its rows of A380s will appreciate it:

Next stop: New Delhi to drop off some Europeans and pick up a few Indians, and finally, the terminus: Manila. I don’t remember how long the trip took with its five stops—an unimaginable journey today. Despite all those stops to fill the plane, there was still enough space to stretch out on the four center seats of the 747, something that never happens these days despite all the flights in every direction.

So here we are, finally at Manila Airport around midnight.

Episode 1: Manila and Baguio To start, a quick note on the political and economic situation in the Philippines in 1984, which had consequences for us as tourists, as we’d soon realize upon arrival.

After several centuries of Spanish colonization, the Philippines became American at the start of the 20th century, then independent. In 1966, Marcos took power, and little by little, his regime sank into corruption and mismanagement, becoming a dictatorship with martial law, all for the benefit of his family and friends, who enriched themselves endlessly. The peak was the assassination of opposition leader Benigno Aquino in August 1983, which triggered harshly repressed protests. So we arrived a few months later in a very poor country, with omnipresent corruption and an extremely tense political situation, as we’d soon see for ourselves. Major protests took place in the main cities during our trip—I’ll come back to that. Two years later, Marcos fled to Hawaii after being forced out of power following rigged elections. This historical context explains a lot of the situations we found ourselves in over the following weeks.

Arriving in the middle of the night isn’t very cheerful. Manila was already a huge city with many slums, where you could find a few business hotels like the Hilton or Intercontinental—way out of our budget—and plenty of run-down hotels. Luckily, two Indians we’d chatted with on the plane offered to take us to their usual hotel. They came to Manila twice a year for business. We accepted their offer, relieved not to have to look for a place to stay in the middle of the night, figuring the address must be good since they came back every time... we were wrong 🙁

We left the airport and immediately got a taste of the local vibe when we got into the taxi: the police asked for our passports. We thought: what’s more normal than police in a dictatorship?

But that wasn’t it at all. Our two Indian friends explained that the police were noting our names along with the taxi number and time. Crime in Manila was so bad that the taxi driver would be held responsible if anything happened to us... welcome to the Philippines 😎 😎

Historically, the Philippines was a very violent country, where everything was settled with guns or machetes. Previous governments had banned carrying weapons, but Marcos later allowed the free sale and carrying of guns, and disputes were settled with pistols again (or worse, as we’d discover later). Since he’d released most of the criminals from prison to form a paramilitary militia at his service (I’ll talk about our encounter with these “heroes” later), it was pretty dangerous to go into many parts of Manila, where these “tonton macoutes” ruled.

We arrived at our hotel without incident... and then things started badly. The room was infested with big cockroaches—exactly what I hate most in those kinds of countries. No way to find another hotel at that hour. After the long flight, the urge to take a shower was so strong that we squeezed into the bathroom as best we could. After that, I don’t remember—I guess we must’ve fallen asleep exhausted under the sheets in the heat... air conditioning wasn’t widespread yet.

The next day, we just wanted to leave that dump as soon as possible. So we decided to head north right away, stopping in Baguio, and we’d visit Manila a bit on the way back.

When we stepped outside, we discovered a pretty run-down neighborhood with potholed streets. But we also discovered the jeepneys. They were everywhere, flooding the streets.





They had crazy sound systems, each one blasting louder than the last. The interiors were kitschy but fun. There weren’t many private cars—almost all transportation was by jeepney, with buses reserved for intercity trips.





Before heading to the bus terminal for the north, somewhere on the outskirts of the city, we needed to exchange some money. I don’t remember how we ended up in a policeman’s jeep who offered his services: - Exchange money on the black market at a better rate than the banks. - Take us wherever we wanted, in this case, the bus terminal.

We accepted both offers (we’d still checked the official exchange rate from dollars to pesos). So we found ourselves in his jeep. After exchanging money, we left in his vehicle and stopped for gas. Without turning off the engine, he calmly smoked a cigarette while filling up. Since we were in a jeep with no doors or roof, we were ready to jump out if things went south, our travel bag in hand.

But we weren’t done with surprises yet. Once we left the small streets, we ended up in a neighborhood with wide avenues and not much traffic, which didn’t justify his incredible behavior. At every intersection, he made the sign of the cross, closed his eyes, and crossed without looking. I was more stunned than terrified! It wasn’t until we got out of the car later that I told Anne-Marie what had happened. I’d seen everything because the cop had put me in the front seat. Luckily, A-Marie hadn’t noticed anything from the back. Crossing Manila by trusting God rather than the rules of the road was ultimately effective. We were lucky—the trip was off to a good start. 🙂 🙂

We then passed through a neighborhood where slums stretched on for a while, and we left our policeman—friendly but a bit crazy—with relief.

A few hours by bus later, here we are in Baguio, cool in the mountains. My memories of Baguio are pretty fuzzy. I remember a small town. After some research while writing this journal, I found that the population was 120,000 in 1980. Given the population density in each home, that confirms my memory of a smallish town. Outside the “official” district with the president’s summer residence and government buildings, there were two or three paved streets with nice houses. The rest was very dirty and very poor, with lots of slums and dirt roads.







People we met on the street invited us to stay with them. These days, we wouldn’t just show up at strangers’ houses, which we should’ve done in Baguio—it would’ve saved us from an unimaginable and dangerous situation... which I won’t say anything about... !😊

The simple wooden house was on stilts at the edge of a hill with a view of the mountains. Since it was the start of the rainy season in a city that gets a lot of rain, we saw a lot of water. Our outings in town happened between downpours.

View from our lodging:

Episode 2: Baguio to Bontoc Aside from the situation briefly mentioned above, it was on the next leg to Bontoc that the adventure really began: an endless and dangerous road, a bus from another era, breathtaking landscapes, and surprising people.

We didn’t know the distance or how long it would take to get to Bontoc. When we arrived after about ten hours, we learned that Baguio to Bontoc was 140 km.

We got on a bus with wooden seats and settled in, two to a seat meant for two. As the bus filled up, passengers squeezed in three or four per seat, with chickens and baskets full of all sorts of things in the aisle. A little embarrassed, we didn’t know if we should squeeze in three on our seat. The seats were super tight (luckily, Filipinos are small), and I didn’t know where to put my legs given my height. I don’t remember if we stayed alone on our bench or if we ended up sharing with others.



The “road” was a dirt track (or rather, a mud track) with endless turns. We held on as best we could to our slippery wooden seats—it was shaking in every direction. The woman behind us was carsick and throwing up... gross... but what were we doing there? Then we plunged into the Sierra Madre... just the name is dreamy!

Rice terraces started to appear:



they took up more and more space along cliffs where we weren’t always reassured,



with lots of waterfalls (all that water had to go somewhere).

A few miserable villages stretched along the track, most often just a few houses balancing between the road and the drop. The bus stopped in every village—people got on or off and settled inside or on the roof. Street vendors offered their products to the bus passengers—a common sight in Asia, even today.



We were in another world—villagers were in loincloths, others had spears. The atmosphere was strange... but all good, we wanted exoticism, and we got it:

This so-called traditional outfit was everyday wear—it wasn’t for tourists since there weren’t any.

Bonjour à tous,

Le voyage - pour ne pas trop sortir de VF - c'est bien sur la vie. L'étape inattendue, elle nous vient de l'orient et sans doute d' un Pangolin.

J'ai 72 ans, un peu d’hypertension, pas grand chose d'autre, alors, au delà du 11 mai je suis bon !

Bon pour continuer à voir mes petits enfants sur Skype, bon pour voir mes enfants masqués qui viennent nous voir de temps à autres à distance respectable, bon pour oublier les embrassades, les câlins, les gestes de tendresse, bon pour....un temps indéterminé à subir ces frustrations que portant je respecterait. Peu en parlent dans les médias, mais c'est une contrainte autre que de simplement porter un masque !!

Merci de m'avoir lu et belle journée confinée

Bonjour!

Si la Covid-19 le permet, nous aimerions passer 3 mois en Afrique du Sud (le pays). Nous y serions du 05 janvier au 5 avril 2021.

Après la lecture du Routard, et la lecture de l’équivalent d’une année de messages sur ce forum, les questions fusent et nous sommes de - en - sûrs de savoir comment départager ces 3 mois...

Avant d’entrer dans le vif du sujet, un peu sur nous:

Aimons nous retrouver dans des milieux naturels, le + loin possible des foules (on est Canadiens, après tout...). On aime voir des animaux sauvages et non pas dressés à donner la papatte ou à prendre la pause.

On aime (et on est habitués) de faire du camping « sauvage » (sans bloc sanitaire ou électricité), mais on peut aussi se résoudre à passer quelques nuits dans un enclos pour humains à l’intérieur des parcs nationaux. Ils sont chez eux, pas nous. On oublie les lodges à 600 euros la nuit.

On est vraiment pas obligés de voir le cap de Bonne-Espérance, Robben Island ou des colonies de manchots... si ça veut dire de faire l’impasse sur des lieux isolés, peu fréquentés mais dignes de détours.

On aime bien louer des voiture question d’aller où bon nous semble, d’avoir nos équipements prêts et à portée de mains, et surtout de pouvoir garder une réserve de nourriture pour les jours (bénis) où il n’y a pas de Walmart à l’horizon...

Nous pensons qu’il serait très sage de laisser tomber la Namibie et le Botswana (autres voyages à venir?) et de se concentrer sur l’Afrique du Sud, mais devrions-nous nécessairement mettre le Lesotho et le eSwatini au programme?

Je pose la question, car ces 2 pays semblent avoir beaucoup à offrir, mais nous risquerions (peut-être) de manquer de temps et beaucoup de belles choses/lieux en Afrique du Sud en contrepartie?!?

Une certitude: nous ne reviendrons PAS dans ce pays pour une seconde visite. Merci, de ne pas demander: pourquoi?

Donc, on inclus ces deux enclaves ou pas?

On a pensé à cet itinéraire mal dégrossi:

Arrivée à Jo’burg, location d’une voiture ou 4 X 4 et faire 1 mois dans le Nord-est (Kruger, entre autre) puis remettre la voiture. Prendre un vol pour Durban ou Port Elizabeth ou Port Edward, louer une voiture et faire moitié-moitié région côtière et intérieur des terres (s’il y a effectivement de quoi se mettre sous la dent, d’autant plus qu’on déteste faire de la plage...) faire 1 mois , remettre la voiture. Prendre un vol pour le Cap, louer une voiture et explorer les grands alentours en 1 mois (s’il y a quelque chose également à se mettre derrière la cravate...) Vol de retour vers Jo’burg.

Un autre itinéraire pourrait comprendre 1 semaine (ou +) au Lesotho et 1 semaine (ou +) au eSwatini et on rognerait 2 semaines (ou +) en Afrique du Sud proprement dite.

Donc, on oublie: plages, visites de vignobles, et réserves animalières avec animaux à toucher qui rugissent sur demande.

Par contre, on prendra bonne note des endroits perdus et hors des sentiers battus que vous avez aimé. Oui, oui... On est sérieux: + c’est éloigné de tout, plus on aime!

On notera aussi les randonnées pédestres guidées ou non, les réserves animalières qui respectent les animaux (si ça existe...).

Désolé, je suis de plus en plus misanthrope, et ça transpire des fois un peu trop...

Bien vôtre

Marc Lamarre