Results for "Tonlé+Sap+|+8+>+187"

salut

je viens d acheter une nouvelle tente je m en suis pas encore servi et j aimerais savoir si il faut que je l impermeabilise avant la premiere utilisation

merci d avance

bonjour, j'ai prévu un voyage en tunisie pour mai, en 4x4 dan sle sud saharien, dans l'excursion, il y a de prévu "CAMPEMENT BIBENE" quelqu'un connait, ou y est déjà allé?! c'est un genre de campement en bivouac?

merci!!

Bonjour, je suis peintre amateur et je suis à la recherche de photos des fameux "caodai" vietnamiens (lycéennes vêtues en blanc d'où leur nom "les papillons blancs"). Je pars de ces photos pour faire mes huiles sur toile. Si vous en avez ou bien si vous connaissez quelqu'un susceptible d'en avoir veuillez me contacter par mail.

Amicalement.

Bonjour,

Je me rends en RD fin mars et j'envisage d'acheter une peinture.

Je n'y connais rien dans ce domaine et encore moins dans le prix a y mettre.

Quelqu'un peut il me donner un ordre d'idée pour le prix d'une toile d'enrion 80 x 60 (les dimensions ne sont certainement pas exaxtes) ?

Merci à tous

ADV

Salut ! Je serais a holguin a la playa pesquero le 5 février et j’aimerais avoir des commentaires sur cette place... c’est mon premier voyage (a part la Floride...) et j’espère que j’ai fait le bon choix...😎😛

🙂 Bonjour à tous j'aimerais savoir si le Sanskrit comme le Mandarin comporte la négation dans l'intonation. Est-ce qu'il aborde les concepts suivants: oui, non, bien, mal, début, fin, naissance, mort.

Gracias a todos :)

Salut à tous,

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

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

Voilà,

Fred

Salut a Tous

Un conseil EVITER la compagnie de bus PANASUR pour aller a UYUNI de La Paz Bus pourri de chez pourri!!!!!!!!!!!!! et en plus quand vous prennez une autre Compagnie eviter les 10 places arrieres Car apres Ururo c est de la piste comme en Afrique Tolle ondullee.......eclatement de pneu etc....... mais le Salr et le circuit traditionnel SSSSSSSuper JE VEUX Y RETOURNER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

😇Bonjour!

Quelle nouvelle infos sur la liaison Maroc et Mauritanie ?

Cordialement Sénégaulois.😏

Bonsoir à toutes et tous, je suis aussi collectionneur de sable et je voyage pas mal. habitant sur la côte, à proximité de la baie de Somme (France), je peux fournir du sable depuis DIEPPE jusque LE TOUQUET sans problème.

Je commence seulement mais je compte sur la solidarité de la toile. la quantité est d'au moins le contenu d'une boite de pellicule photo (+ permet des échanges). Précisez la date, la ville, le pays et le nom de la plage sur le contenant.

grouper si possible, je rembourse les frais ni vous jugez utile, sinon : échange.

Le top du top, une photo numérique du lieu.

Sable de plage, de rivière mais aussi d'arènes (même origine du mot) ou de carrière.

Grand merci d'avance.

Je ferai bientôt mon premier voyage en Thaïlande. Comme je partirai seule, je me demandais si l'achat d'un "Pac Safe" en valait la peine. C'est un genre de toile d'araignée en fil d'acier souple pour entourer le sac à dos et pouvoir le barrer n'importe où. Est-ce que j'aurai l'air paranoïaque avec ça sur mon sac à dos?

Merci

Christine

Bonjour,

Je serai intéressé par toutes informations concernant un voyage de plusieurs semaines au Tibet :

Formalités, Hébergements, Transports, Trecks et Budget (permis, visas, vols, etc...).

Je vous remercie par avance.

A bientôt sur la toile.

Hello everyone. I'm looking for campsites around BOLZANO (South Tyrol) for early September. I'll be on my motorcycle with a small tent. I've noticed that some campsites have exorbitant prices. If you've traveled through the Dolomites by motorcycle or otherwise and camped there, I'd love any tips on places and prices where I can stay for one night or several. Thanks to all of you, and happy travels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* "Chimique" is a series of synthetic cannabinoids

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi there, I’m starting a little European road trip where I want to explore the capitals of our continent. I’m currently in Rome, and my next destination is Lisbon!

If you’ve got any restaurant, bar, or place recommendations, I’d love to hear them!

Thanks in advance! 😊

Hello everyone, We came back enchanted from our first trip to Namibia and we're already thinking of going back. We did the classics: Etosha, Twyfelfontein, Sossusvlei, Deadvlei... Our guide suggests doing the Caprivi Strip over 10 days, alternating 2 nights in a lodge and 2 nights in a tent. Given that we love landscapes but especially wildlife observation, I wonder if after spending 4 nights in Etosha and having visited Botswana twice, Caprivi offers different animals to see and if the wildlife is generally abundant. The videos I've seen online don't really captivate me. It seems quite similar to the Okavango Delta. What do you think? Are there other circuits we should prioritize? Both in our seventies, we prefer staying mainly in lodges. Thanks in advance to those who can give us advice

Hi there!

What a pleasure to be back on this forum—I thought it had closed down? If it has indeed reopened, that’s fantastic news! :)

My wife and I are heading to Kenya for three weeks starting August 30th, and I’d love some help fine-tuning our itinerary and answering a few questions. Here’s the rough draft I’ve put together:

08/30: Nairobi (2 nights) 09/01-09/04: Masai Mara (3 nights, then return to Nairobi) 09/05-09/07: Rift Valley/Nakuru/Hell’s Gate/etc. (2 nights, then return to Nairobi) 09/08: Nairobi > Amboseli (2 nights) 09/10: Amboseli > Tsavo East (2 nights) 09/12: Tsavo > Mombasa (1 night) 09/13: Mombasa > Kilifi (2 nights) 09/15: Kilifi > Malindi > Lamu (3 nights) 09/18: Return to Nairobi 09/19: Departure at 23:40

I’ve got a ton of questions, but I’ll try to summarize them somewhat:

Do you have any recommendations for tour operators for the safaris? Right now, I’ve planned 11 days for the "safari" portion from Masai Mara to Tsavo, with a lot of returns to Nairobi—is it possible to optimize this without booking a full tour with a single agency? Aside from the cost, I’m worried I won’t feel very free if we do a 9-day experience covering all of it, but maybe that’s the most recommended option? Do all the destinations up to Mombasa require booking a tour and hiring a guide in advance (or having your own vehicle), or are some more open to improvisation? We’d also like to meet people and not just do safaris, but our current itinerary doesn’t really allow for that—would you recommend cutting back on safaris and visiting villages between Nairobi and the coast instead? We were also considering the Taita Hills if possible—what do you think? Is Kilifi a good idea? We’ve heard it’s more authentic than Diani and we’re interested in the bioluminescent plankton, but I feel like the detour complicates the trip a bit.

You can probably tell from my questions that our biggest concern right now is booking the safaris. We can’t really afford to spend 2000 € each for 4 days, but we also won’t be taking a trip like this again anytime soon, so we want to make the most of it!

Hope my questions make sense and that you can help us out—thanks, and have a great evening!

Camille

Hi everyone.

With the kids getting older, I’ve finally decided to head somewhere a bit more exotic than our usual (and wonderful) Brittany. We’ve chosen to visit Austria and Slovenia, with a little detour through Zagreb. We’ll be spending a day there, and I’d love to make sure we don’t miss anything. Here’s my little plan—let me know what you think!

- Parking between Ridnjack Park and Zagreb Cathedral - Quick stroll through Dolac Market - Visit Kamenita Vrata (Stone Gate) - Saint Catherine’s Church - Head to Lotrščak Tower: at noon for the cannon firing. - Walk through Grič Tunnel - Head down to Ban Jelačić Square - Then visit Zrinjevac Park (its monuments and beautiful facades) - Head back north to see St. Mark’s Church - Tkalčićeva Street (pedestrian street) and Opatovina Park

There we go... I’ve definitely forgotten a ton of things... What do you think? Thanks!

Stéphane.

Hi everyone, I’m new to the forum! I’d like to buy some panniers for bike travel made of Cordura. I initially went for the Ortlieb Back Roller Plus, but while browsing the cylo-randonnée website, I came across the Extrawheel Wayfarer Premium panniers. They’re also made of Cordura, manufactured in Poland with German materials, and each has a 25-liter capacity—10 liters more than the Ortliebs. Has anyone here tried them or knows this brand? I know Ortlieb is super reputable, but I figured there might be other brands that are just as good. 🙂 Gabriele

I really loved Thailand, but it was too touristy for my taste. So I'm hesitating about going back and wondering if Cambodia or Vietnam would be less crowded with tourists...

Hi there, We’re planning a trip in August 2025 with two kids (8 and 11 years old) in a camper van through the American West. Any tips for renting a van? (I’ve started looking, and it seems really expensive—August probably doesn’t help...) But it’ll still be cheaper and more nature-focused than motels... We’re considering this route: Salt Lake City - Great Salt Lake - Yellowstone - Grand Teton, then heading back down toward Lake Tahoe, Yosemite (Sequoia Park if we have time), and San Francisco. Do you think this is doable? Any suggestions for other sites to visit? Also, any recommendations for campgrounds in these areas? Thanks in advance!

Hi there, I'm currently planning our trip to Morocco for next May. We're looking to explore a part of the country we haven't visited yet, and I'd love to get some opinions or tips for my itinerary. We'll have a rental Duster to get around. -1- Marrakech to the Paradise Valley, arriving in the late afternoon. 2 nights there so we can explore the next day. -2- From Paradise Valley to Tafraout. Along the way, we'd like to visit some agadirs (Ikounka, Imeghguiguilne, Ighir, Tizourgane). I'm wondering if we'll have time to see them all, if we should visit all of them or skip some? Or if there are other suggestions? -3- I plan to stay 3 nights in Tafraout. Night 1 we might arrive late. The following days to visit the village of Tagdicht, the Blue Rocks, and the Ait Mansour Valley. Doable? Road or track conditions? Too much or too little time? Anything else to see? -4- I was thinking of taking the road to visit the underground village of Icht. Then heading to Tata to visit the Tollé and/or Messalites caves. Same questions as before (road conditions, time, anything else)? -5- Road to Tissint for a walk. Road to Taliouine to visit the Glaoui kasbah. Spend the night around there. Same questions? -6- Road and visit to the Ifri granary. Then head to a part of Morocco we already know :-)

Anyway, quite a few questions...

Since we've been to Morocco several times before, I know there won't be any issues once we're there. It's just that I'm trying to plan ahead a bit so we don't miss what there is to see in the area, without rushing too much ;-)

Hello everyone and HAPPY NEW YEAR! Amateur Egyptologist here, 🙂 and I’ve finally planned a trip there before age catches up with me. I’ve booked a 10-day tour with our dear Amandine Marshall and her favorite agency (which I won’t name to avoid advertising).

The organizer’s fact sheet recommends:

Personal gear - Sunglasses - High-SPF sunscreen - Toiletries (preferably biodegradable products) - Hat or cap with neck coverage

Personal first-aid kit - Aspirin/paracetamol - Anti-diarrheal tablets - Throat lozenges - Antiseptic cream - Insect bite cream - Bandages and adhesive tape - Any regularly used medications or toiletries

What luggage should we bring? - Travel bag (70 liters) or suitcase. - Small backpack (30 liters) for day trips.

What should we pack? - Shoes: opt for "trekking" or mid-mountain hiking shoes with thick but flexible soles, preferably made of canvas. Choose shoes with good ankle support. - Lightweight, loose-fitting canvas pants that are comfortable and versatile. - Shirts/T-shirts: 2 or 3 shirts, preferably long-sleeved to avoid sunburn. T-shirts are also recommended, but watch out for sunburn. - Sweater or fleece for the evenings, as winter nights can get chilly.

Would any seasoned Egypt travelers have any tips or suggestions to add? Thanks!

Imagine a peaceful fishing village, completely transformed by artists who worked their magic on the walls of 100 residential houses. That’s the remarkable story of the Tam Thanh mural village in Quang Nam province. Once similar to many other coastal villages in the area, it now firmly stands out on the tourist map for a day trip from Hoi An. In the summer of 2016, Tam Thanh was selected by a Korean-Vietnamese joint project called Art For A Better Community. The village was chosen to be their blank canvas, inspired by the success of mural villages in Korea. The project aimed to make Tam Thanh the first painted village of its kind in Vietnam. The joint project included five Korean artists and seven Vietnamese artists, along with local volunteers. They aimed to show Vietnamese people that art could be part of everyday life, no matter where you stand in society. The effort began with about three weeks of wall washing, followed by painting the walls of over 100 residents' houses. The project was a success, and the village came alive with the paintings. The entire village is now a breathtaking gallery just waiting to be explored. The murals capture the life and soul of the village—from young children playing to fishermen in the ocean. A mix of fantastic pieces offers stunning backdrops for photos. The painted art around the town didn’t just have a visual impact; it also had a social one. The village itself was chosen not only for the layout of the houses but also to contribute to economic development opportunities in Tam Thanh. Tourists now visit the once-overlooked village, creating more income for locals and making it a successful "art for a cause" project. For example, an entrepreneurial resident who owned a small local café invested 1,000,000 VND ($390 USD) in a sugarcane press a week before the paintings were completed. Sugarcane juice vendors then multiplied with the growth of tourism (5,000 VND - $0.20 USD). Walking down the village’s single street, it’s common to find locals selling refreshments and handmade crafts. In one house in particular, a tailor and his family are painted on an outer wall with incredible detail. The family started selling tote bags decorated by their young daughter. The asking price for the bags is 100,000 VND ($4 USD). If you’re looking for a way to support the village’s economy, this is it. Since there’s no middleman here, you can be sure your money goes directly to the community. Since the project’s completion, two other villages in the province have now been painted. The new mural villages were created with different local Vietnamese artists to raise awareness about each community’s issues. Tam Hai Island was redecorated to highlight the serious waste problem the population faces due to the lack of treatment plants. Another village on An Binh Island was painted to raise awareness among locals and tourists about the importance of environmental protection. How to get there Route No. 1: Cross the large Cua Dai bridge. Once you’ve crossed it, continue onto Duong 129/Duong Ven Bien. Stay on this road for 33 kilometers. Upside: this route has light traffic, no traffic lights, and no trucks or buses. It’s a great direct route to the village but offers little to see. You’ll eventually reach a crossroads. Turn right toward Tam Ky town, while the left will take you toward the mural village; stay on Road 608 as it turns twice before reaching a bridge. Cross the bridge, and you’ll arrive at Thanh Nien Road. Finally, turn right to reach the village. This route takes about an hour. Route #2: Cross the large Cua Dai bridge. Once you’ve crossed it, continue onto Duong 129/Duong Ven Bien. Stay on this road for 12 kilometers, then turn left onto Road 613, where you’ll continue for 1.5 kilometers until you reach Thanh Nien Road. Finally, turn right and drive 23 kilometers to the painted village. For most of the trip, taking Thanh Nien Road will take you through a much more local part of the region. The journey takes about an hour and a half.

Hi everyone on the forum,

I’m arriving Thursday morning at 6:35 AM in Addis Ababa, heading straight to the hotel to drop off my bag. After that, I’ll be exploring the main sights of the city solo with my local guide—everything’s already on my list. For the evening, I’m looking for a traditional restaurant, preferably with some entertainment that doesn’t go too late since we’re leaving early the next day. If you know of any great spots and/or lively neighborhoods in the old city, I’d love to hear about them. I haven’t found much online.

Philippe

Bonsoir je viens d'acheter un vélo rockrider 320 d'une quinzaine d'années. Je souhaite remplacer les roues de 26 pouces. Par contre je ne sais pas quoi acheter d'un bon rapport qualité prix et poids fiabilité. L'idéal serait d'avoir un moyeu dynamo. Je souhaite conserver les 7 pignons à l'arrière mais je ne sais pas si c'est possible et si c'est une cassette ou roue libre j'ai besoin de vos conseils plutôt que de faire une bêtise. Merci à vous.

Bonjour nos sacoches Decat prennent l'eau. Nous avons besoins de changer nos sacoches. J'hésites donc entre des Vaudes et Ortlieb. J'aimerai savoir si vous avez des bons plans concernant ces marques. J'ai croisé un cyclotouriste l'année dernière qui me disait par exemple qu'il y avait un vélociste sur Paris qui en vendait des pas trop cher car il y avait le nom de son magasin écrit dessus... En attendant tous vos conseils, je vous remercie par avance et je vous dis à très vite.

Bonjour à tous, J'aimerai, enfin je vais, partir seul pour faire un voyage à vélo à travers la France, une boucle de 2500km avec comme point de départ la Roche sur yon (Vendée), j'utiliserai principalement des voies cyclables. A savoir que je souhaiterai réaliser ce voyage en "partenariat" avec une association. J'aimerai avoir autant de conseils, avis, retour d'expérience que possible pour préparer au mieux ce voyage (budget, vélo, équipement, etc).