Results for "Caen+ou+Deauville+ou+Calvados+|+127"

Bonjour, je reflechis sur un projet de voyage pour cet été (mi/fin juillet) avec nos 2 grands ados pour aller au Japon découvrir leurs traditions, la nature, les coutumes, les temples, les jardins, leur repas et arts de vivre ... et aussi le coté technologique pour les garçons ! j'ai imaginé 2 parcours (dans le 1 er je pense déja qu'il faudrait un peu rallonger mais où ?) dans le 2 eme c'est un peu plus long mais ajouter hiroshima et myajima...est ce que ce sera trop? Merci pour vos conseils !!!

J2 Arrivée Kyoto direct train après arrivée en avion d’Osaka le matin J3 Kyoto (de 2 à 6) J6 Kyoto- Kanazawa J7 Kanazawa-Shirakawago J8 Shirakawago - Takayama J9 Takayama- Matsumoto J10 Matsumoto - Kawaguchiko J11 Kawaguchiko - Tokyo J12 Tokyo J13 Tokyo J14 Tokyo J15 Tokyo – Départ

2eme parcours... J1 Départ J2 Arrivée Kyoto J3 Kyoto J4 Kyoto J5 Kyoto J6 Kyoto J7 Kyoto- Hiroshima J8 Hiroshima -Miyajima J9 Miyajima - Kanazawa J10 Kanazawa J11 Kanazawa-Shirakawago J12 Shirakawago - Takayama J13 Takayama- Matsumoto J14 Matsumoto - Kawaguchiko J15 Kawaguchiko - Tokyo J16 Tokyo J17 Tokyo J18 Tokyo J19 Tokyo J20 04/08/2017 Tokyo - Départ

bonjour à tous,

j'aurai aimé savoir si vous connaissiez des agences de transport ou particuliers qui serait améme de nous livrer notre salon marocain "3 sidalis" avec notre table de salon en provenance de RABAT jusqu'en Basse Normandie plus précisement à CAEN ou ROUEN, au pire des cas sur PARIS, MANTES LA JOLIE. Je sais que cela se fais mais je ne trouve aucune coordonnées sur le net et savoir aussi combien cela nous reviendrait.

Vous remerciant tous de vos réponses .🙂

Bonjour, Je voudrais offrir à ma mère une journée sur Paris, transport en bus compris, départ de Caen, ou les alentours pour 2009. Visites comprises, voire aussi promenade en bateau mouche, pour un prix raisonnable. Je souhaiterai obtenir des adresses, numéros d'organismes qui organiserait ce genre de séjours.

Merci beaucoup de votre aide.

nous sommes 2 femmes (plus toutes jeunes) , on projette de faire Cologne à la suisse le long du Rhin en vélo (eurovélo15) , mais on cherche un camion pour nous emmener toutes les 2 avec nos 2 vélos. le 28 ou le 29 juin.. à partir de Cherbourg ou Caen ou dans le coin... le retour autour du 9 ou 10 juillet en partant de Bâle ou Mulhouse merci beaucoup...

Je cherche une ville au climat doux en Europe où passer 1 mois à la fin de l'hiver pour fuir l'hiver canadien. Je me demande quelle est la température à cette période à Madrid? Ou si vous avez d'autres villes à me conseiller.

Campanule🙂

Bonjour a tous Je veux visiter en 3 à 5 jours quelques lieux et vestige du débarquement et quelques sites historiques de la Normandie. J'aimerais avoir vos suggestions et vos incontournables, connaitre un lieu centralisé et intéressant d'où je peux faire mes visites sans changer d’hôtel à chaque jour. Comment sont les plages, sans être le sud sont-elles "baignable". Merci d'avance

Bonjour,

Je suis québécois et je compte faire un voyage d'une durée approximative de 1 mois et demi avec mon sac à dos. 🙂

Mon itinéraire consiste à faire en quelque sorte le tour de la France en visant les plus grandes et plus belles villes de France. Par exemple : Paris -> Caen -> Rennes -> Poitiers -> Bordeaux -> Toulouse -> etc. Toutefois vous le comprendrez, j'aimerais effectuer mes déplacements entre ces villes par train. Premièrement, j'ai consulté le site du RER sur lequel j'ai vu que des lignes d'une région définie se poursuivaient dans la région voisine, ce qui pourrait me permettre justement de faire un voyage entre 2 grandes villes (exemple Paris-Reims). Mais un ami m'a dit que le coût du billet du RER variait selon la gare de destination. Toutefois, je pense bien que si je me rend à Amiens de Paris en RER, la facture sera naturellement très grosse et je ne veux pas voyager d'une ville à l'autre pour 50 euros chaque fois...

Autre solution, le TGV... Mais je trouve que c'est encore trop chère et je voulais savoir s'il existe un moyen autre que ces deux derniers.

Merci beaucoup !

Début juin nous partons pour la France, pendant 15 jours, notre premier voyage. Nous arrivons à Paris, à CDG, nous avons un hotel-appartement près de l’Arc de Triomphe. Nous allons passer 6 nuits à Paris. Nous prévoyons visiter les attraits touristiques habituels et sûrement Versailles. Ensuite nous louons une voiture, nous prévoyons passer par les grandes villes Caen, St-Malo, Rennes, Nantes, La Rochelle pour finir à Bordeaux 2 nuits (donc une journée complète sans voiture) et retour à Québec

Est-ce qu'il y a une épicerie, un supermarché ou un marché près de notre hôtel qui est à 2 pas de l'Arc de Triomphe?

Ma question est : est-ce que ce trajet est raisonnable? Entre Nantes et Bordeaux nous voulons visiter un vignoble, lequel? On m'a fortement suggéré St-Emilion. Avez-vous des suggestions de choses à ne pas manquer et d’autres à éviter? Est-ce que ça vaut la peine de se rendre jusqu’à Biarritz?

Notre plus gros « problème » est : comment sortir de l’aéroport CDG? La seule façon que je vois, à pas trop cher, est un Car de Air France mais comme nous arrivons au terminal 3 ça semble un peu compliqué? Je n'ai pas de plan d'ensemble de l'aéroport avec tous ses terminaux. A quel endroit je peux trouver ça.

Évidemment, nous voulons tout voir et ne rien manquer. Merci!

Bonjour, je désire visiter les plages du débarquement en Normandie, et je compte utiliser le transport en commun. Je serai basé à Paris. Je suis peu intéressé par le memorial de Caen, un peu trop gros et trop cher, j'aimerais voir des vestiges, des bunkers et des cimetières, voir les plages. Je compte m'y rendre en train, quelle destination me conseillez-vous? Caen ou Dieppe? Je compte peut-être y rester une nuit. Est-il possible de visiter ces vestiges par nous mêmes, à pied ou à vélo? Merci beaucoup de tous ces renseignements!

Bonjour, Je suis étudiante en master 2 à l'école d'architecture de Rennes et dans le cadre de mon projet de fin d'étude, travaille sur le projet (fictif) d'une base d'accueil pour cyclotouristes dans les anciennes ardoisières de la commune de Trélazé, en périphérie d'Angers. Trélazé se trouvant à l'intersection de l'itinéraire cyclable de la Loire à Vélo et de la Vélo Francette (qui part de Caen pour rejoindre La Rochelle), elle permettrait de dessiner un point de départ reliant les quatre points cardinaux. Le cyclotouriste pourrait alors choisir de remonter vers Caen, ou bien se diriger vers les Châteaux de la Loire, vers l'Atlantique ou encore le Poitou Charente. C'est à partir de là que j'ai grandement besoin de votre aide... En effet, je suis novice dans ce domaine (je pratique d'avantage la randonnée à pieds sur plusieurs jours en montagne...) et suis donc à la recherche de tout type d'informations sur la pratique du cyclotourisme. Du départ de votre voyage, jusqu'à votre arrivée... Prenez-vous votre propre vélo ou bien préférez-vous en louer un ? Comment rejoignez-vous votre point de départ (trains, voiture) ? Aimez-vous revenir à votre point de départ ? Si oui, pensez-vous qu'un service de navette sur différents points de parcours pourrait être intéressant ? Quels types d'hébergements préférez-vous (camping, gîte, dortoir, hôtel...) ? Pensez vous qu'une sorte de « refuge de montagne » où les cyclotouristes pourraient alors se rassembler et échanger sur leurs voyages pourrait vous plaire ou serait utile ? Nous pourrions également y trouver différents services tel que la location et la réparation de matériels de cyclisme, des activités pour les enfants ou encore un centre de bien être, de récupération physique pour mieux repartir... Quels services voudriez vous voir ou ne pas voir pour un lieu comme celui ? L'idée de cette base serait par exemple de venir y déposer sa voiture ou bien ses affaires et pourquoi pas faire des balades sur un ou plusieurs jours pour découvrir les châteaux de la Loire, revenir sur Trélazé par une navette, profiter d'un service de remise en forme (pour la personne ainsi que pour le vélo ^^), y rester dormir pour repartir le lendemain vers l'estuaire de St Nazaire pour ensuite revenir... et pourquoi pas repartir... Voila mon projet en quelques mots... Vos avis pourraient m'être d'une grande aide donc n'hésitez pas que ce soit positif ou négatif, tout est bon à prendre ! Je vous remercie d'avance :)

Bonjour,

Je pars avec mon frère 10 jours en Norvège, et j'ai un peu de mal à me coller à choisir où on pourrait aller. On comptait se rendre à Bodo, et on m'a parlé des iles Lofoten, le souci c'est qu'on aimerait visiter tellement de trucs que ça serait je pense frustrant d'y passer 3 jours (surtout que dans nos dates présumées, l'arrivée se fait à 17h à l'aller et le départ à 6h au retour, c'est con ça fait perdre presque deux journées sur place ! 🙁) On sera à pieds en plus, donc pas moyen de visiter les alentours en voiture sans dépenser trop (budget plutôt serré), et ce qu'on veut surtout c'est de la nature et du bivouac.

On aimerait voir les fjords, les forêts et les lacs à l'intérieur des terres, la côte atlantique... Tout ce qu'on sait pour l'instant c'est qu'on va prendre un pass interrail et qu'on aura droit à 3 voyages en train. Donc on aimerait bien faire 2 destinations en y passant 3 ou 4 jours chaque. Les horaires de ferries n'étant absolument pas arrangeant, est ce que ça vaut le coup selon vous d'aller aux Lofoten pour 2 jours ? 😕

Ensuite, quelles sont selon vous les coins incontournables niveau paysage (j'insiste car c'est notre grande priorité, enfin comme pas mal de gens qui vont en Norvège je suppose 😄), mais accessible en train ? On m'a parlé de la région de Bergen, on m'a parlé d'un grand plateau (dont j'ai oublié le nom 😕) au centre du pays, mais apparemment peu accessible en transports ...

Bref je suis un peu paumée et j'aimerais bien vos avis, tout en prenant en compte qu'on sera à pieds et qu'on a finalement peu de temps (8 jours concrètement sur place...)

Merci d'avance 🙂

Rebonjour à vos tous,

j'arriverai à l'aéroport de Paris (Charles de Gaulle), le 25 août. Je voudrais me rendre en Normandie (Dieppe). J'aimerais quelques conseils et surtour, savoir si je devrais réserver mes billets de train du Québec ou si tout est OK directement sur place ? Réserver d'avance me fais peur de ne pas être à l'heure à la gare. Pour la direction, je crois que de l'aéroport je dois me rendre à une gare, mais comment et quelle gare ? Besoin de votre aide svp 😕

Merci

Bonjour,

Nous partons à Lombok début Juin pour y séjourner 15 jours en bord de mer. Nous ferons eventuellement une rando dans la foret. Est il nécessaire de prendre un traitement contre le paludisme (type Malarone) ? Mon médecin me conseille de prendre le traitement et mon pharmacien me dit qu'il suffit de partir avec une boite de médicaments au cas ou l'on contracterais le palu. Que faire ?

Merci de vos conseils

Nous allons en France au mois de mai après un bref séjour à Paris nous filons vers la Normandie.Mais il n'est pas question pour nous de conduire dans Paris, alors on voudrait louer une voiture à l'extérieur de la ville.

Serait-il possible d'avoir les adresses de compagnies de location de voiture à un prix raisonnable.Nous allons sur Caen est-ce mieux de louer sur place.Merci pour vos informations.

Marirose

je voudrais m'installer a Madagascar dans quelque annees avec ma famille 3 enfants 8, 10, 14ans pouvez vous me dire quel est le budget mensuel pour cinq en moyenne pour pouvoir y vivre et quel endroit de l'ile est le plus approprier pour ma famille scolarite etc merci😉

Rigolez pas ! 😎😎😎

Je sais bien que la gastronomie n'est pas le point fort des US cependant il doit tout de même y avoir des restos moins pire que d'autre ! Alors ne me citez pas les chaines ou on mange correct pour pas cher, je suis à la recherche de ceux dont vous souvenez pour que telle ou telle raison précise ...

Bonjour à tous de la part d'un nouveau camping cariste.

Je prévois partir en corse du 29/5 au 27/6 . Je connais un peu pour y être aller un vingtaine de fois en voiture et location. Mes appréhensions sont au sujet de l'eau et de l'électricité car je veux éviter le plus possible les campings . Si certains connaissent quelques trucs ou bonnes adresses, quelques points de ravitaillement et de stationnement. Merci d'avance

Autre sujet! entre une deuxième batterie et un groupe électrogène ( silencieux) hormis le prix, que me conseillez vous. Re-Merci

😕 un voyage en famille risque de tourner court car un passeport est manquant et les délais sont longs à l'approche des vacances, y a t'il possibilités de recours?

on m'a ramené un morceau d'odika du Gabon (cacao), qui peut me donner une recette de viande à l'odika, por favor!

Merci!

“Hey, your Marker... - My Marker? - The one you used to make hitchhiking signs.”

The marker in question is sitting proudly on the kitchen table. Marielle found it at the bottom of a moving box.

I’ve been meaning to tell the long story of my love affair with hitchhiking for years. Here we go.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure when it started. My earliest memory goes back to a fair with a bike race in my maternal grandparents’ village. I was with my cousin, my little sister, and three girl cousins. There were six of us, ages ranging from six or seven to thirteen or fourteen. Our parents stayed at the fair, and we’d had enough. So we decided to walk home. Only it was four kilometers away. So we hitchhiked. A guy driving an old car picked us all up and dropped us off at the farm. He probably found it amusing to see us thumbing a ride by the side of the road, but maybe it also worried him a bit. With everything you read in the papers...

Around fifteen or sixteen, I started hitchhiking regularly, alone or with a friend, to go to the nearby town. But it was especially when I started boarding school in Orléans that it became more regular. The first year, I’d leave Monday morning and come back Saturday noon by bus. It was an old, uncomfortable bus where we froze in winter. To make matters worse, I often got motion sickness if, as was too often the case, I ended up sitting in the back. In the spring, a high school friend suggested I hitchhike back. It meant a slight detour, but the advantage was taking only national roads.

So that’s how, from the end of tenth grade to twelfth grade, I’d thumb a ride every Saturday on the Pont de Bourgogne. Drivers were used to seeing young people hitchhiking, and it worked pretty well. Our biggest fear? Soldiers! At that time, military service was still mandatory, and on weekends, it wasn’t rare to see them competing with us. They’d keep their uniforms on to go home. That gave people confidence—with everything you read in the papers—and they’d rarely wait more than five minutes. We, with our long hair, were definitely less popular. From time to time, three big red-faced guys in a van coming back from a construction site would flip us off, yelling things like “go get a haircut, you bums!” Those were the good old days.

We still had a good laugh, though. Patrice, the friend I’d hitchhike back from school with on Saturdays, is a musician—I’d later discover he’s an excellent composer. A die-hard Beatles fan, he knows their repertoire by heart and spends his time singing at the top of his lungs while we thumb a ride. One Saturday late morning, we’d been waiting for a while at the exit of Châteauneuf-sur-Loire when a little lady came up to him and asked if he could please sing a little quieter: a baby was sleeping in the house. He put on the most sorry face: “Oh, sorry ma’am, we didn’t realize.” No sooner had the lady gone back inside than he started again. Luckily, a car stopped just then, sparing me the embarrassment of seeing the lady come back out.

Saturday was also the day when the cigarette pack was dangerously low. So before leaving, we’d go buy some “Parisiennes,” the “P4s” as we called them back then. They were slightly thinner cigarettes with a mix of tobacco scraps. Sometimes they tasted like light tobacco, sometimes like dark. Not great, but by the end of the week, our pocket money was gone. They were sold in small packs of four, hence the name P4. We’d only pay 20 centimes. On Saturdays, it was rare for the two of us to manage to scrape together 1.50 F to buy a whole pack of Gauloises...

The last twenty kilometers, I’d usually do alone, Patrice having reached his destination. From time to time, luck would smile on me: an acquaintance would just happen to pass by and stop. One January Saturday, at the exit of Gien, I ran into another guy from Argenton whom I knew a little. That day, the weather was nice, but the temperature was well below zero. It was around noon, and it was the off-peak hour. We were shivering, stamping our feet by the side of the road, when a Citroën “Tube” arrived: it was his father’s boss’s, a mason. They were both sitting in the front, but since they were obese, they had us climb onto the open back. Even though we huddled against the cab to shelter from the wind, the twenty kilometers felt very long, especially since we were only going sixty kilometers an hour. Our hands and cheeks were blue when we finally arrived.

The year I took my baccalaureate, a friend with a 2CV would take me Monday mornings with one or two others we’d pick up in nearby villages. We’d share the gas costs, but it was still cheaper than the bus. And in winter, the bus was my nightmare. You had to get up at five to catch it at six. Not enough sleep, and outside it was freezing or raining—or both. The 2CV was luxury. Plus, Philippe would pick me up at home. On the other hand, since I didn’t have class Saturday mornings—well, I did, but we only had PE the first two hours and nothing after—I’d skip class and slip out right after breakfast to thumb a ride at the Pont de Bourgogne.

Those three high school years were formative in this optional subject that was hitchhiking. Little by little, I learned the rules of the game. First, you shouldn’t walk along the road while thumbing. Cars go too fast and can’t stop easily. Accepting a ride that’s too short is also a no-go. The guy who offers to take you a little way but drops you off at some vague crossroads in the middle of nowhere? No thanks. You need to get dropped off in a town. If it’s a fairly big city, you often have to cross it from one end to the other, but it’s better. At the exit, you have to choose your spot well. Actually, you have to put yourself in the driver’s shoes: they need to see you early enough, not be going too fast, and be able to stop easily without risking an accident. So when leaving a city, it’s better not to go too far. It’s wiser to find a spot where cars go slowly and can stop easily. And preferably near a café. The café is for when you still have a few coins for a coffee and need to warm up. From time to time, you’d run into someone nice who’d make a detour to drop you off at a better spot to start again. Finally, if possible, avoid hitchhiking on Sundays. Cars are packed with whole families who, most of the time, aren’t going far. And then there’s the little worry of those people who rarely leave home: with everything you read in the papers...

During those high school years, it was only short trips, rarely exceeding a hundred kilometers. Later, I aimed bigger, and things were a bit different. In 1973-74, I crossed part of France for the first time on two or three occasions, coming back from the German border or returning to Bordeaux, where we lived briefly. Since there weren’t many highways back then, we took national roads. It was during these trips that I realized it was better to leave in the evening. As I said earlier, Sunday is to be avoided, but on weekdays, there’s another problem: if you leave in the morning, you only make short hops. First, it often takes longer to get going because drivers are people going to work nearby. Which brings us back to those who drop you off in a bad spot, far from everything. There, you have to know how to refuse. You thank the driver for stopping—oh, if only everyone could be like you—while explaining why you’d rather stay put. People don’t take offense, by the way. Those who pick up hitchhikers often hitchhiked themselves when they were in the military or before they had a car. In the late afternoon, you’d often run into salespeople or truckers, in other words, people who drive a lot. At that time, salespeople no longer had appointments and were more relaxed. They wanted to talk about something other than the merits of their products. On the radio, it was time for *Les Grosses Têtes*. You’d also quite often run into small business owners, professionals, or even hippies. The conversations were pleasant and often enriching. A little later in the evening, truckers would take over. They’d already driven a few hundred kilometers, and the depot or customs was still far away. So they’d gladly take a hitchhiker to stay awake at the wheel and chat. The radio with Max Ménier’s show *Les routiers sont sympas*, you’d eventually get tired of it. So a hitchhiker was a change. Others, who’d hit the road at midnight to be at their destination by morning, were nice and offered to let you lie down on the bunk while they drove. When you’d been hitchhiking since six in the evening, freezing in the wind between two vehicles, you weren’t unhappy to take a little nap.

Speaking of Max Ménier, he’d often make announcements for hitchhikers. One evening, I called him. It was getting late, and I still had quite a way to go. No luck: the show had ended for good the day before!

In short, it’s better not to rush, sleep in, and leave after lunch, or better yet, in the late afternoon. Obviously, I’m talking about when you have several hundred kilometers to cover. That’s when you have to play it pro.

First thing, especially at night, but it also applies in the middle of summer when the light is blinding: dress to be seen from far away. I’ll admit I have an advantage over most other hitchhikers: I’m small and don’t scare people. To balance that out, racist drivers often take me for an Arab and are less likely to pick me up, but overall, the balance tips in my favor. Back to the need to be seen: at night, I wear light-colored clothes. In headlights, you can see me from far away.

Second thing: travel light. Forget the big backpack with a frame. Drivers don’t always have room in the trunk or on the back seat, especially if it’s rained and the ground is wet. Plus, it forces them to get out of the car. If they’re nice enough to pick up a hitchhiker, you shouldn’t ask for too much either.

Third thing: bring a cardboard sign and a big marker—like the ones in the photo at the start of this post—to write the name of your destination. In the early 80s, I ran a tourist house in the Cher, but I lived in the Netherlands. In the off-season, it was only open on weekends. On Fridays, I’d leave Holland and return on Mondays. 1200 km round trip. On the way there, in Paris, I’d stand at Porte de la Chapelle. At that spot, the road is very wide, and drivers could stop easily. Obviously, on the sign, I didn’t write Eindhoven, which not everyone knows, and even less Amsterdam because of its seedy reputation. In that case, you’d expect to see a police car stop and two officers in kepis ask for your papers. So as a first destination, I’d write Compiègne. We were well out of Paris, and since it wasn’t too far, a trucker or salesperson was less reluctant to stop. Once past Compiègne, I’d take out my Lille sign. Once in Belgium, it wasn’t really necessary to use a sign anymore, since everyone was going in the same direction. Usually, the guy who picked me up at Porte de la Chapelle would say he wasn’t going far but could take me a little way. Before that, I’d still ask if there was a gas station on the highway where he could drop me off before exiting. While talking, the guy would realize he wasn’t dealing with a dangerous criminal. He’d pretend to check his watch, think for a moment, then say that actually, he was going to Belgium and could take me to the border or a little beyond. To leave Paris on the way back, I’d take the train to Melun, where it was easier to hitchhike than at Porte d’Italie.

Over all those years, I think I was pretty lucky. Or maybe philosophical enough not to imagine a car would stop after a few minutes. An hour’s wait was average. Sure, I sometimes waited three, four, or five hours. Most often at odd hours and in terrible weather. When it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But there’s always a moment when things pick up. Sure, when you’re soaked in freezing rain in the early morning after a sleepless night, you’re less philosophical than when I’m writing these lines comfortably at my computer, but it still holds true.

Earlier, I mentioned clothing and the importance of being well-rested before leaving. When you’ve eaten well and just gotten out of the shower, shaved, you’re in a better mood. And somehow, drivers sense it. Or at least, that’s the impression I’ve always had. It’s better to look in shape than disgusted at standing there, half-heartedly thumbing a ride. In short, when I’d start to get fed up with waiting, I’d go into the first café I saw for a coffee. Coming back out, I’d be refreshed, and most of the time, a car would stop within minutes. I’ve often said that when I stood by the side of the road thumbing a ride, I felt a bit like a gambler in front of a slot machine. It was a matter of giving luck a chance. And well, it worked out pretty well.

Then, there are countries where hitchhiking works really well and others where it’s harder. In the 70s-80s, it worked best in Germany and England. In the late afternoon, it wasn’t rare to be invited for tea. Well, that was in England. Tea meant being offered room and board. In Germany, they’d offer you coffee. Once there, they’d first show you the guest room and point out the bathroom before sitting you down in front of a big plate of cold cuts. In the evening, they’d go out in town, and the next morning, they’d usually drop you off at a good spot for hitchhiking. On the other hand, in Mediterranean and Scandinavian countries, you’d better be patient. In Spain or Italy, it’s better to take the train, which was dirt cheap back then. However, if you’re a couple traveling light, it’s already easier in most countries.

In 1982, I went on a trip around Turkey with my girlfriend. We only had two small bags, which was plenty. It was November-December, and we wore our warm, bulky clothes. Leaving Eindhoven at nine in the morning, we arrived in Graz, near the Yugoslav border, at eleven at night. 1300 km in a day! In just four or five vehicles. One to the German border, about fifty kilometers from Eindhoven, the second to Hagen in the Ruhr, the third to Salzburg, and the last to Graz at the Yugoslav border. Record broken. During the night crossing of Yugoslavia, we ran into a trucker close to retirement who lent us the truck’s bunk. So we arrived fresh and rested near Skopje the next morning. We continued to Thessaloniki in northern Greece before taking the train to Istanbul. In Turkey, we traveled a good part of the country by hitchhiking too. With truckers in old, overloaded, slow trucks that climbed hills at fifteen kilometers an hour, but also in cars where five or six people were already crammed in. And every time, we were invited for tea. Once, we were even picked up by a big shot in his Mercedes with a chauffeur. Until then, the average speed was around fifty kilometers an hour. There, we were going two hundred. On a national road, not a nice European highway.

I’ve also hitchhiked in Nepal, from Lumbini, Buddha’s birthplace, to a village on the way to Pokhara. It must have been midday. No bus until the next day. I gave it a try. A small truck overloaded with rice sacks, with two or three young people already perched on top, stopped. I rode on the roof of the cab. At fifty kilometers an hour when it was going well, with a breathtaking view. Coming back from India, I also crossed part of Iran by hitchhiking, from Tehran to the Turkish border. I did this trip with an Austrian I met at the hotel who, like me, had to watch his pennies. We gave it a shot. There was almost no traffic, but to our great surprise, the first car that passed in the area would always stop. They’d just ask for a modest contribution for gas, and it cost next to nothing.

Sometimes, you get scared too. After leaving Turkey in early December 82, we spent about two weeks in the southern Peloponnese harvesting olives. A few days before Christmas, we hitchhiked back to Holland. A girl picked us up in her little Fiat 500. We were driving on a mountain road, and that morning there was a bit of black ice. After crossing a pass, we saw the old Ford Taunus ahead of us at fifty meters start to skid. The driver let out a “heeee!” while grabbing my knees. I reflexively grabbed the wheel. Finally, the Taunus got back on track. And we didn’t swerve. But those few seconds felt very long.

In January 77, while I’d been living in Germany for a few months, I decided to spend a few days in Italy. By hitchhiking, of course. I left in the early afternoon, and by ten at night, I wasn’t far from Frankfurt. I saw a big Mercedes stop. The four or five young people crammed inside were listening to Schlager at full volume. Beer cans littered the floor. They didn’t have a precise destination, and as long as they were going south, that was fine with me. They’d finished their military service that very day and had clearly already celebrated their discharge. The driver was going 160, zigzagging dangerously from one side of the highway to the other. I should have realized he wasn’t entirely sober either. Luckily, there was almost no traffic. Finally, I managed to get dropped off at a gas station just before Frankfurt, relieved. I hope their trip didn’t end tragically.

Another time, coming back from Holland with my wife, we were picked up early in the morning near Senlis by two guys from Lille. They were going to work near Tours and could drop us off at Porte d’Italie. Apparently, they were coworkers but barely knew each other. The driver offered us a beer—at six in the morning, sure!—before opening another can for himself. He was clearly having trouble staying in the right lane. We politely declined, the passenger too. Everyone was tense. Luckily, it was rush hour on the ring road, and we were going slowly. When we got out of the car, the passenger said goodbye with the look of a guy being offered the condemned man’s rum and cigarette.

Finally, there are the annoying remarks from drivers who are either gay when you’re alone or turned on by the sight of your girlfriend when you’re a couple. In those cases, I’d get in the back so the guy wouldn’t feel too confident. And if the conversation got a little too suggestive, we’d deflect until we got dropped off.

And luckily, there are the times, not so rare after all, when you run into really nice people who invite you to eat and sleep at their place and drive you to a good spot the next morning. In Germany and England, that was common. And then there are the big strokes of luck, like during our trip to Turkey when we crossed most of Germany in one car, or that other time when some Germans drove me from the exit of Geneva all the way to the Costa Brava.

Going back to “with everything you read in the papers” and its variant “with everything you see on TV”—and now on the internet—it’s always left me perplexed. Personally, I’ve never heard of hitchhikers assaulting drivers, even if it may have happened. On the other hand, what was most common were hitchhikers being assaulted, especially girls. Anyway, even armed, it seems a bit stupid to assault the driver—wouldn’t that risk causing an accident?

Finally, since that time, I’ve occasionally wanted to hitchhike somewhere far away in France. Most often, too busy with work, it never happened, but the nostalgia hasn’t completely disappeared.

* * *

Other Hitchhikers

And then one day, I... settled down to become a driver myself. Ten years had passed, and you saw fewer and fewer hitchhikers. Or maybe I saw fewer because I had a regular job and wasn’t traveling the same way. And then I understood a few things.

Several times, I was tempted to pick up a hitchhiker, but they didn’t meet the required conditions. They were walking along the road instead of staying at the exit of the previous town. Hard to stop without risking an accident. Or the guy looked really scruffy. Or he was sulking, if not both. Then you think of that famous “with everything you read in the papers.” Not that I was scared, but unfortunately, the few hitchhikers I did pick up later were rarely interesting.

A few years ago, we picked up a young guy at the exit of a small town in Sologne. Not an easy spot for hitchhiking. Bad luck, he was a pretentious little jerk. He was barely 20 or 25 and talked like a bitter old man. He was a waiter in a restaurant. According to him, it was lucky he was there, otherwise the boss would have closed up shop long ago. You’d think he had thirty or forty years of professional experience behind him. As we approached Blois, he started ranting about Arabs, blaming them for all evils. And he laid it on thick. That morning, we were going to a teenager’s funeral who had just committed suicide, so he really got on our nerves, Mr. Know-It-All. Out of anger, I dropped him off next to a shopping center a few kilometers from downtown. Not nice, but it felt good.

Some time ago, we were driving around the Limousin on a Sunday to try out the used Twingo we’d just bought. We picked up a guy in his forties. A German who spoke French well. He started talking about the environment. He was a green Khmer. He got worked up all by himself with his pseudo-eco rant and, after a few kilometers, was almost yelling at us. As we were about to leave the main road for a small one, I dropped him off at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere. Normally, I would have made a little detour to take him to a better spot, but this time, I didn’t feel like doing the... eco-warrior a favor.

On the other hand, I’ve still done my good deed a few times. One June morning, coming back from Orléans, I saw a man in his sixties hitchhiking. The poor guy had had a rough time. He was from Montpellier and was coming back from Caen, where he’d been promised a job. Once there, they bluntly told him the position was already taken, and he had to go back. Except he didn’t have enough money left for the train. He’d spent the night hitchhiking without success. I could only take him as far as Lamotte-Beuvron, where I dropped him off near the fire station. Apparently, there was some vague shelter there or something, but it only opened a few hours later. In the meantime, he settled on the grass in a corner to sleep a little. While he was doing that, I quickly went to the train station to check the price of a ticket to Montpellier. It was within my means. Since he was sound asleep, I slipped the train ticket and 100 francs into his pocket. I couldn’t imagine him continuing to hitchhike all the way to Montpellier. And I bet he didn’t even have a piece of cardboard and a marker!

When we go to Brazil, we usually rent a small car. One day, we were coming back from Paracuru to Fortaleza when we saw a whole family hitchhiking. Two adults and two or three small children. Here near the equator, the sun sets very quickly, and it would soon be night. There was little traffic, and trucks wouldn’t stop because there was no room in the cab. As for the rich people driving big 4x4s, they wouldn’t stoop to picking up the lower classes. The only hope for this kind of family was usually a farmer or artisan who’d let them ride in the back of his pickup. Obviously, they were a bit surprised to see us. Everyone crammed in as best they could in the back of our little car. When we dropped them off, we got a whole string of “Deus lhes abençõe”—God bless you.

Still in Brazil, we were on the road from Barreirinhas to São Luís do Maranhão. About 150 km of deserted road with an isolated mud house here and there. A young woman flagged us down. She was very pregnant and had to get to the clinic twenty or thirty kilometers away to give birth. Someone was supposed to drive her, but the first signs of labor started earlier than expected, and the driver was unavailable. Even driving fast, we weren’t feeling great: it would be just our luck if she gave birth in the car!

Today, we’re in the age of smartphones and carpooling apps. Safety. With everything you see on TV... Three or four years ago, we signed up on a platform. Our first, and only, “client” was a little jerk who didn’t say a word the whole trip. No hello, no goodbye, and certainly no thank you. The next day, we found his Ray-Bans in the car. We didn’t run after him to give them back. Ha!

Bonjour, Je tourne et retourne cherche et recherche des solutions. L'Humira est quasiment intransportable en Inde. Doit être conservé entre 2° et 8°. Autant dire mission impossible sur un voyage qui au plus court durera entre 30 et 35h. Sans compter les enquiquinements à la sécurité et à la douane pour le passage du médicament sous forme de liquide et de seringues. Je lance une bouteille à la mer : quelqu'un a-t-il connu ce problème ? Et comment le résoudre ? Je ne renoncerai jamais à repartir en Inde. Toute ma vie est là-bas. J'en crèverais...

Je suis du Québec. Je voudrais consacrer un mois pour visiter cette partie de la France et m'arrêter sur les sites d'intérêt maritime. Existe -t-il le long de la cote de façon relativement linéaire du transport en commun reliant les principaux centres?? Je vise principalement les musées. Luc Plourde Gaspé Qc. Merci

Bonjour, nous prévoyons faire un séjour d'environ 18 jours pour explorer le nord ouest de la France début septembre 2016. Nous arriverons probablement à Bordeaux et voulons absolument voir les plages du débarquement, la Normandie, la Picardie (nos ancêtres) et un petit saut en Alsace. Quelqu'un peut-il me suggérer un circuit. Nous ne savons pas de quel aéroport nous repartirons, nous aurons une voiture de location. Merci à l'avance.

Bonjour,

Début mai je compte me rendre à Budapest (puis Hatvan) au départ de Paris ou Caen (si possible). Comment trouver un voyage économique par train ou bus? merci! 🙂

Bonjour à tous !

Pour l'année prochaine (aout) je me pose la question de peut-être m'installer en métropole pour la suite de mon cursus. Cela dit, j'hésite entre Caen, Rouen, Nancy, Metz et Toulouse. La mauvaise réputation de Toulouse est-elle justifiée ? Est-il vrai qu'une femme seule ne doit pas se balader dans les rues en jupe ? Que pouvez-vous me dire à propos du climat, de l'architecture de ces villes, des gens (sont-ils accueillants?) et des magasins (ou est-ce qu'il y en a plus) ? Quelle ville est la plus grande ? Est-ce que la ville de Rouen est aussi vieille que les photos de Google laisse à penser ? Et niveau sécurité pouvez-vous me faire un classement des villes ?

Que me conseillez-vous ? Merci d'avance pour vos réponses ! 😉 Je lirai tout 😉

Laëtitia 😉