Results for "Oulan+Bator+|+6+>+176"

Hola !!!

Si quequ'un pouvait m'informer sur le paysage et les choses importantes à voir et à commenter entre Marrakech et les cascades d'ouzoud ( Paysages, flore, faune, édifices, agriculture, ...etc)

Je vous remercie d'avance pour l'aide que vous pourrez m'apporter.

Muchas gracias....sebnemo

Bonjour,

Je pars en Argentine fin décembre, période à laquelle les vols intérieurs pour la Patagonie sont très pleins. Quelqu'un a-t-il déjà voyagé avec la compagnie LADE ?

Si oui, savez-vous comment réserver ? J'ai envoyé un mail en anglais, mais je n'ai toujours pas eu de réponse.

Merci !

Bonjour,

On part le 4/12 direction Punta Cana 😏 et le Riu Mélao avec NF donc sur un vol Corsair, notre avion devrait être un Boeing 747/300, je voudrais savoir si les places sont assez confortables et spacieuses (tout autant que l'on puisse être à l'aise dans un avion) pour une personne d'1m88 (c'est le problème de ma moitiée car pour ma part aucun problème je case facilement mes 1m58).

Est ce qu'il y à possibilité de demander des places bien spécifiques chez NF ou chez Corsair et dans ce cas qu'elles sont les emplacements les plus agréables?

Merci beaucoups pour les infos à venir.

Pétronille

PS : A notre retour je ferais un petit topos de notre séjour pour les futurs chanceux 😉

Bonjour a tous, je pars pour le club marmara a hurghada le 23decembre, j'ai entendu dire que l'hotel n'etait pas encore entierment fini, j'aimerai donc savoir si quelqu'un a deja été la bas et si on pourrai me confirmer que certaines parties de l'hotel sont encore en travaux, j'aimerai aussi savoir si les piscines sont finis et si l'hotel est propre et bien situé???? Merci de votre collaboration😉

Bienvenu au coeur du Benin, en ce qui concerne les infos sur mon pays, vous êtes à la bonne adresse!!

Bonjour!🙂

Je part le 10 novembre avec ma ptite copine et un ami au Mexique / Guatemala. Duree de l'espedition : 40 jours.

Nous avons commence les preparatifs et ellaborons un circuit. J'aimerais bien avoir votre point de vue: devons nous voir a la baisse le nombre de villes / sites visites? Devons nous consacrer plus de temps au Guatemala? Est ce que c'est mission imposible de prevoir tant d'etapes?? Devons nous plus penser a nous poser?? Tout commentaire seront hautement aprecies! Nous n'avons pas d'experience en Amerique Latine... Et avons vraiment envie d'en profiter un max... Peut etre notre soif de decouverte est irrealisable et devons nous revoir notre circuit a la baisse... Je ne sais pas🤪 a vous de m'eguiller si vous le voulez bien!

Voici le circuit:

Arrivee Cancun repos puis direction Chichen Itza 1jr

Merida 1 jour

Uxmal 1 jr

Campeche 2 jrs

Mexico DF 2 jrs

Teotihuacan 1jr

Taxco 1jr

Pie de la Cuesta 1jr

Acapulco 1jr

Puerto Escondido 1jr / Mazunte 1 jr / Zipolite 1 jr / Puerto Angel 1 jr (plage dc repos)

Oaxaca 2 jrs

San Cristobal de las casas 3 jrs

Ocosingo 1 jr

Agua clara / Agua Azul 1 jr

Palenque / Bonampak / Yaxchilan 2 jrs

Puis Guatemala 6jrs (on ne sait pas quelles villes pour l'instant, avez vous des conseils??)

Et puis retour au Yucatan avec Tulum et Cozumel. Il nous resterait 8 jours pour cette etape sachant que l'on peut utiliser ces jours "repos" pour s'atarder dans quelques villes precedentes si l'on s'y trouve bien. Style Guatemala car 6 jours c'est pas tres long...

Si vous connaissez des sites qui ne parraissent pas sur ce circuit et a ne pas rater, n'hesitez pas!

Merci Merci BEAUCOUP🙂 Ce forum nous aide enormement! C'est genial pour l'organisation d'une telle viree.

RANNARD

Bonjour,

Nous souhaitons partir en RD fin novembre, début décembre. En cherchant un peu, les formules tout inclus semblent alléchantes mais rester à l'hotel pour le farniente ce n'est pas trop notre truc..Auriez-vous des infos sur les endroits sympas à visiter, les endroits où hôtels à éviter, si sur place il est facile d'organiser des excursions soi-même ou avec des agences locales (sans se ruiner..)..enfin toutes les infos nous serons utiles! De même, les déguats occasionnés par les cyclones sont-ils conséquents?

Merci d'avance

Bonjour! Quelqu'un a deja ete en Israel? Quelles sont vos impressions. Que pensez-vous de Tel Aviv? Est-ce que c'est cher? Des suggestions?

:)

Merci beaucoup!

:)

voila, aprés un séjour de 3 semaines à bali au mois de septembre prochain, je compte aller 3 semaines dans le nord de l'Inde vers la fin septembre, je me suis donc rendu chez mon médecin pour mettre à jour mon carnet de vaccination, et quand il a su ou j'allais il m'a vivement recommandé de prendre un traitement contre le pallu du nom de : savarine.Qu'en pensez-vous, est-ce indispensable? merci pour vos réponses.

voici un renseignement interressant pour ceux qui ne le sauraient pas, avec la compagnie Thaïair, sur un paris bangkok dempasar par exemple...le stop à bangkok à l'aller ou au retour est gratuit😉

Bonjour tout le monde,

Ma question va peut-être vous paraître incongrue, mais, comment faites-vous pour avoir une guide (le bouquin et non l'humain😉) pour chacun des pays que vous visitez pendant un tour du monde? Mon ami et moi préparons un tdm et nous avons pensé à nous faire envoyer au fur et à mesure les guides appropriés. Mais peut-être avez vous d'autres solutions; achetez-vous sur place? les lonely planet se trouvent-ils partout?

Aussi qqn pourrait-il me renseigner sur la poste restante (comment ça marche, dans quels pays) et les autres possibilités de se faire envoyer des colis? avec des prix indicatifs peut-être? Et dans quel pays est-ce que ce n'est pas sûr du tout de bien reçevoir un colis qui nous a été envoyé depuis l'europe?

Je vous remercie tous d'avance, à bientôt

malina

Alors voilà suite à une erreur mon post qui s'intitulait "on peut sauver le monde" a été effacé. Mais comme l'erreur est humaine je relance la discussion!!!

Donc je disais que nous sommes dans la possibilité de changer le monde et de le sauver.........oui car si nous aidons une personne celle çi va apprécier et ainsi en aidera une autre. Cette autre va se sentir heureuse d'avoir été aidé alors elle va aider une autre et ainsi de suite une chaine se forme..........

Certains pensent que c'est un rêve et que ce n'est pas possible mais moi je dis que c'est tout à fait faisable si tout le monde est partant pour changer sa façon de penser...........parfois il suffit de faire un geste simple envers l'autre............il suffit parfois d'écouter ou de prononcer une parole.............est-ce si diffficile? Avec un peu de bonne volonté on peut y arriver!! Lors de nos voyages certains attendent un sourire de notre part, un petit signe et c'est ça qui peut les rendre heureux et qui va faire qu'il pourront ainsi redistribuer ce sourire qu'on leur a donner.............chaque jour nous pouvons ajouter un petit plus à cette chaine alors surtout ne la brisez pas!!!!

Qu'en pensez vous?

Bisous et à bientôt🙂

Lafleur🙂

le circuit "aventure" au Laos me parait pas mal et hors des sentiers battus (encore qu au Laos c'est deja trankill !!!), et ensuite aller en thailande par mes propres moyens.

qui a fait des circuits en asie avec NF ?

merci de vos commentaires.

😏

Vous avez adoré la rencontre à la Passagère (c'est vrai, c'était vraiment sympa ! 😎) ou, vous avez amèrement regretté d'y être (je vous comprends...😕) aussi, je propose une soirée pic-nic le jeudi 10 juin. Soirée extraordinaire, cela va sans dire puisque nous y serons très nombreux (🙂😉😛🤪...) et qu'une fois de plus nous rêverons au travers de discussions variées et exotiques 😏.

Alors, rendez-vous vers les 20h sur les pelouses du parc de la Tête d'Or (entrée côté Doua, à droite après le petit tunnel). Il faudrait juste penser à apporter un grand tissu, quelques bougies, un plat "cuisine du monde" (la France étant de ce monde..!) ou des boissons (no forget verres en plastique et tire-bouchon) et, et... photos, carnets de voyage que l'on aurait envie de partager..

A bientôt !!!😉

hola!

voila, g arreté mes études bien avant de passer la bac, et je voudrais les reprendre pr faire des études de kiné, et ensuite me perfectionner ds les massages ayurvediques.

J'aimerais savoir si c obligé d'avoir le bac pour faire des études de kiné.

Aussi, si vs connaissez des écoles pr ces études, et combien d'anné ca prendrait pour avoir le diplome.

merci beaucoup..**

Je réfléchis à tout laisser tomber pour partir une bonne fois pour toute pour des raisons personnelles.

Je dispose d'un budget au mieux de 6000 euros.

Je ne sais pas combien de tps partir ( le plus lgtps possible ) et encore moins comment m'y prendre, mais je me renseigne.

A combien s'élevait vos dépenses par mois ? Sachant que je ne suis pas du tout exigent sur la nourriture et les nuités.

Merci

Cela fait une semaine que je suis rentrée du lookéa fiesta de punta cana. Etant donnée que peu d’infos circule sur le net sur cet hôtel, voici un compte rendu de mes vacances.

Transport :

vol aller retour sur star airlines. Pas de soucis a l’aller mais 21h de retard au retour suite a 2 problèmes consécutifs sur le même moteur. Ca fait un peu peur. Mais le plus génant est qu’il nous ont fait attendre 8h a l’aéroport pour nous dire qu’on ne partait pas, nous ont informé de la situation 2h après l’heure prévue du décollage, et nous ont laissé sans manger et sans boire, alors que tout était fermé dans l’éaéroport.

Sinon, avion très bien, nourriture très correct.

Club lookéa :

Chambre : très bien, ménage fait tous les jours. Pas besoin d’adaptateur car les prises acceptent le format francais et européen. Par contre, pour les appareil n’acceptant pas le 110V, ca marche mais au ralenti (possibilité d’acheter un adaptateur mais je m’en suis passée).

Cadre : magnifique. Pleins de palmiers et de plantes vertes, grande piscine.

Plage : à 5min a pied . Un peu de vent mais très agréable quand il fait 35° (on n’a eu qqs jours sans vent et c’était intenable sur les serviettes). Mer avec un peu de vagues (c’est l’atlantique), chaude et très belles, propres (qqs algues lorsque la mer est agitée). Il y a bcp de transats mais au niveau du lookéa, si vous arrivé trop tard, ils sont tous pris. Deux possibilités : se mettre au niveau d’un autre hôtel ou réserver son transat le matin en posant sa serviette.

Les serviettes sont prêtées par l’hôtel et possibilité de les changer tous les jours. Amener quand même une serviette pour le jour du départ si vous voulez vous baigner (ou prendre une de la salle de bain) car il faut les rendre a midi le jour du départ.

Restaurant : très variés et très bon. Chaque soir, repas à thème : dominicain, italien, mexicain… également une pizzeria disponible. Personnel très accueillant.

Boissons locales alcolisées et boissons non alcoolisées a volonté (rhum, pepsi, jus d’orange…)

Activités : canöé, catamaran, minigolf, sports co, tir a l’arc, salle de musculation…

Aquagym proposée par les animatrices est nulle, la danse proposée également par les animatrices est toujours la même chose

Animations : Les animations du soir sont vraiment nulles. La discothèque est nulle également. Mieux vaut aller a celle du club a côté qui fait vraiment discothèque (petite astuce : la clientèle de la disco est a majorité anglophone. Les boissons sont gratuites mais par pour la clientèle du lookéa qui a un bracelet vert. Par contre, les bracelets blancs, d’un autre hôtel, ne paie pas. Il suffit de retourner votre bracelet qui devient blanc et vous pouvait boire gratuitement en vous exprimant en anglais)

Excursions : ne passer pas par l’hotel, c’est plus cher. Vous avez une agence à Cortecito (a 15’ à pied a droite de la plage), RH tours (une agence se trouve également à playa bavaro) qui propose les mêmes excursions pour moins chers. Et si vous faites 2 excursions cez eux, ils font des promos. J’ai fait saona avec eux, c’était très bien. D’autres personnes ont fait les buggy, et ont trouvé ca super.

L’hotel propose également bavaro runners, que j’ai fait en passant par l’hôtel à 75$. Si vous les appelé directement (numéro de tel dans la brochure de l’hôtel), précisez que vous n’appartenait à aucune agence, ils viennent vous chercher devant l’hôtel et c’est 55$. C���est une excursion très sympa dans les campagnes dominicaines, mais a choisir, faites en priorité saona.

Téléphone et change : Amener des dollars et échangé les sur place contre des pesos. Les euros ne sont pas intéressants car 1£=1 euros. Ne surtout pas changer à l’hôtel mais à plazza bavaro ou le taux est beaucoup plus interessant (pour se rendre à playa bavaro 2 possibilités : sortir de l’hotel et droite droite, 25 min ou passer par l’hotel d’a côté a gauche de la plage, le flamenco. La sortie de cette hotel est juste en face de plazza bavaro). Ne pas hésiter a comparer les taux de change car peuvent varier. La pharmacie en face de l’entrée du flamenco propose un taux de change correct. Le taux de change inclus la commission donc que vous changiez 10 dollars ou 100 dollars vous ne paierais pas plus de commission.

Pour le téléphone, ne téléphonez surtout pas de l’hôtel. C’est 3$ la min. Allez a plazza bavaro, au codetel (lorsque vous arrivez à plazza bavaro, juste après plazza punta cana, vous prenez l’allée d’en face et c’est un peu plus loin sur la droite). Et la, c’est 32 pesos la min, soit même pas un dollar.

Tresses : mesdames, vous seres sans doute tentez de vous faire tresser les cheveux. Ne le faites pas près de la piscine, c’est super cher (environ 35$). Allez a plazza bavaro et vous pourrez faire des tresses pour 15$. Je l’ai fait.

CCL : nous avons passée 15j superbes. Le seul bémol est l’animation mais nous avons fait sans.

Si vous avez d’autres questions n’ hésitez pas

Bonjour vous tous et toutes,

Je suis allé au El Senador en aout 2002 et j'ai adoré, j'y retourne du 19 février au 4 mars de cet année, j'entends des commentaires négatifs sur cet endroit, si quelqu'un arrive de là, me rassurer

Nikita

Merci

Hello à tous ...

Je sait que le narguilé n'est pas vriament un plat gastronomique, mais sela fait partie des plaisirs de la vie (et dans certain pays un objet centrale de la vie), je suis à la recherche de boutique en france, principalement sur paris, grenoble ou genèves qui vendent pas mal de melasse différente, pas seulement les bateaux que sont la pomme et autres ...

Merci d'avance a tous ceux qui pourront m'aidé ...

Ciao et bon evnt à tous ...

Philo

Hi there, We’re flying from Montreal to Lyon this August to go hiking in the French Alps. We’ve rented a car and will be staying at campgrounds. We’re planning to do day hikes and want to stay a few days in one spot, do a few hikes, then move on to our next camping spot. Could you share your favorite spots or any recommendations for places to spend a few days with great hikes?

A few details: We arrive in early August and leave in early September. We’re looking for day hikes (or shorter), moderate difficulty, with a cumulative elevation gain of no more than 1000m, and of course, beautiful scenery! We’d prefer not to drive too much—maybe it’s best not to head too far south and deal with unnecessary heat? Along the same lines, if you know of any great campgrounds where we can start our hike directly without needing the car, we’d love to hear your suggestions!

Thanks! :-)

“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!

Why Colombia? It's quite simple. For the past few years, my daughter has been living with a Colombian from Bogotá. The idea was to discover his country, meet his family, and do part of the trip all four of us together. We’re heading out first as scouts, then they’ll join us to continue the journey. The itinerary was shared in another post—now it’s time for the impressions. No photos, as for me, it’s video and nothing more!

Day 1: The big departure What was planned: A flight from Lyon Saint-Exupéry late morning heading to Frankfurt. Two hours of waiting in Frankfurt (just enough time to eat a pretzel!!) and then off to Bogotá for an arrival around 7 PM local time. I hadn’t done the Check-Mig (to be done 72 hours before the flight). I did it on my phone, giving a fake arrival date in Colombia, and the attendant told me there wouldn’t be any issues in Bogotá. Actually, two hours of delay at departure in Lyon because a sick passenger was on the plane—they had to evacuate him, and the ambulance that was supposed to be there didn’t have permission to come near the plane. Ah, French administrative formalities!!!!! Flight to Frankfurt with Lufthansa went smoothly. A sprint through the airport—very well organized. Connection secured, so we boarded the plane, and two hours later than scheduled, we took off for an 11-hour flight! Arrival in Bogotá, and the immigration process took over an hour and a half because of the crowds. However, no issues with the Check-Mig—they barely glanced at it. Our daughter’s father-in-law ended up waiting over 3 hours at the airport because of this!!! Surprise: No luggage. Luckily, we had packed essentials in our carry-ons! Quick administrative paperwork, and Lufthansa informed me our bags would be on the next flight, so no big deal. Off to our hotel in La Candelaria and a good night’s rest.

The plus: We’re in Bogotá! The minus: Flight delays are becoming more and more common.

Hello,

For a week-long trip starting from Marrakech with a rental car, if you had to choose between these two loops, which one would you go for and why? 1) Marrakech - Ouarzazate - Dades Gorges - Merzouga - Marrakech (map itinerary) 2) Marrakech - Ouarzazate - Dades Gorges - Zagora - Marrakech (map itinerary)

Important info: this is for mid-February, so nights will be cold. For option 1, we’re thinking of staying in a "solid" hotel in Merzouga rather than camping in a tent without heating (our 10-year-old might not like that ^^). If you’ve got any experience to share about cold winter nights in the desert while camping, that’d be super helpful!

Thanks so much in advance!

Bonjour Nous devons partir le 11 septembre 2020 en Andalousie par Raynair , mais nous ne voulons pas partir. Il y a t'il des personnes qui ont écrit à Raynair mais en France Il y a t'il des personnes qui ont été dans notre cas ? Il y a t'il des personnes qui sont partis cet été en Andalousie ? Merci en attendant votre réponse

Bonjour,

Grand dilemme, nous sommes deux femmes, nous avons 4 jours pour faire des randos. Nous voudrions trouver un village et sillonner autour, sereinement sans avoir peur de se retrouver seule dans la nature ou se perdre.. Envie de montagnes.. de grands espaces.. de verdure..

Nous hésitons entre : - l'Ariège, vers St-Girons ou Ax les Thermes - Le parc des écrins (mais quel point de chute pour faire des randos d'une journée?) - Le Vercors (idem quel point de chute?)

De là où nous sommes actuellement le trajet pour le parc des écrins ou le vercors serait de 2h30 alors que pour aller dans l'Ariège ce serait plutôt 4h... Et d'un autre coté les routes provençales nous paraissent plus tortueuses que celle en Ariège, donc moins facile de conduire pour des citadines..

Merci par avance de vos conseils. Sibylle

bonjour les gens qui voyagent

supposons qu on repart à l etranger en 2021 ou 2022. Comment utiliser vos finances ? Vous mettez tout l argent économisé dans un gros voyage genre luxe ou vous ne changez rien ou vous avez trop crainte et ne partirez plus ? je suis curieux de savoir

Bonjour,

Plus les mois passent, plus je commence à me faire à l'idée qu'il y aura décidément un avant et un après pour ce pays que nous aimons tous. J'avoue humblement que je suis passé d'optimiste à pessimiste.

Aujourd'hui le gouvernement Thaï change les règles, et pour combien de temps

Nous savons maintenant avec certitude que ce sera le parcours du combattant pour y retourner cette année , sans parler du nerf de la guerre ce coût financier qui se dessine . (Assurance , quarantaine, test, bulle j'en passe etc ... )

Vais-je accepter payer une assurance la peau des fesses pour rester enfermé 14 jours dans un hôtel à 64€ par nuit. Ensuite on ne sait pas à quelle sauce on nous mettra sur des rails.

Suis-je le seul à penser cela ?

Enfermé depuis Mars , j'ai vraiment pas envie de rester en France cet hiver . ...

Mais pour aller ou ? Quel est le pays qui se rapproche le plus de la Thaïlande ?