Results for "Capitole+|+127"

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!

We have a cruise planned for next April to the ABC Islands and we’d love to hear your suggestions for sights, beaches, or special shopping spots. We’ve started our research and noticed that Bonaire isn’t highly recommended for beaches because of all the coral (great for diving, though). Thanks in advance!

Hi there!!

This summer, we're planning to explore Poland from July 4th to 23rd. I’ve outlined our rough itinerary below—could you let me know if the number of days allocated to each destination makes sense or if there’s anything we should change? Thanks in advance!

S4 Departure, overnight in Würzburg (Germany) to break up the drive. D5 Travel day with visits: Jawor and Świdnica churches, Książ Castle (likely just the exterior), and a few other stops. Overnight in Wrocław. L6 Explore Wrocław M7 Explore Wrocław M8 Visit Kłodzko—is one day enough? Overnight near Auschwitz. J9 Visit Auschwitz, overnight in Kraków V10 Explore Kraków S11 Explore Kraków D12 Visit the Wieliczka Salt Mine, overnight near Zakopane L13 Zakopane M14 Zakopane M15 Visit Zamość, overnight in Lublin J16 Explore Lublin, overnight in Masuria (TBD) V17 Explore Masuria S18 Explore Masuria D19 Depart for Gdańsk, visit the Teutonic Castle, overnight in Gdańsk L20 Explore Gdańsk M21 Explore Gdańsk J22 Explore Gdańsk, possible day trip to Sopot? V23 Visit Toruń, then drive back to Germany. Overnight stop like on the way out. S24 Home!

Best, Christophe

Hi there,

I’d planned to go to Benin in 2026, but given the recent events and upcoming elections, I’m thinking I’ll wait to see what happens after the elections.

Has anyone traveled to Benin recently or is planning to go soon?

At the risk of drawing some harsh criticism, I’ll admit we were really disappointed: sure, this trip—taken at the end of September—was short (a week), but we’d planned this little road trip (1,000km by car) as a first scouting mission. We won’t be going back anytime soon!

First mistake: we flew into Tirana (from Marseille) when it would’ve been better to fly to Corfu and rent a car in the south of the country instead of staying in the capital, which frankly isn’t all that interesting. From Tirana, we headed east toward Lin, by Lake Ohrid (a very poor region facing Macedonia), then to Korça, which guidebooks call "the most pleasant city in Albania." From there, we drove to Gjirokastra, an old Ottoman town (170km of mountain roads that took us nearly 5 hours...), then further south to Butrint, near Greece. The goal of these stops? To visit UNESCO World Heritage sites. In Lin, 6th-century mosaics; in Korça, a remarkable icon museum; in Gjirokastra, the citadel. At Butrint, we fled at the sight of all the tour buses parked in front of "this major archaeological site in the Mediterranean" and headed back north! The entire Adriatic coast is undergoing severe overdevelopment: developers are destroying the coastline to attract even more tourists (11 million visited in 2024, while Albania only has 3 million residents). We preferred to leave the coastal road (in excellent condition, a future highway) to visit Berat, an Ottoman town topped by a citadel. Our favorite spot. Why were we so disappointed? Villages without charm, outskirts of major cities in advanced decay, trash along the roads... The weight of the communist dictatorship and forced industrialization over forty years is still felt everywhere. The country is recovering but betting on tourism. The result? Newly built villas for the newly rich, beaches near the capital already polluted... Too bad, because the natural landscapes are often stunning, the locals are welcoming (young people learn English, though their parents speak little), and prices remain very reasonable—except in the capital. We’d chosen to stay with locals as much as possible, but like in Croatia, families are turning their homes into guest houses (~35 € per night, hearty breakfast included). Renting the car cost us 312 € for a week (with an international rental company—it’s probably cheaper with a local one, but I prefer understanding the contract I sign), and we cautiously took the optional insurance. Just so you know: Albanians drive fast, seem unfamiliar with traffic rules, overtake before curves, ignore yellow lines, and rarely use turn signals...)

Hello, we’re two senior couples who often travel with a guide and driver. For this trip to Oman, though, we’d like (for various reasons) to have a fixed base and visit the must-sees with a local guide but on a hub-and-spoke basis. Do you think that’s possible, and what would be the best place to stay? We’ll be in Oman for 7 days in March 2026. Thanks in advance for your suggestions.

Hi everyone, I’m planning a three-week road trip in the American West, starting from Las Vegas, roughly following the two-week itinerary here. I like the loop idea, but since I’ve got an extra week, I’m wondering if it’s better to take time for a break in a city or just spread out the stops a bit. Is it worth staying a few days in another big city like Denver to break up the drive? I like cities, but nothing’s really inspiring me. I’m also hesitant about Canyonlands National Park: is it really worth two days or more, or is it less impressive than others like Arches or Bryce Canyon? If any of you have done a longer road trip in this region, I’d love your advice on where to extend the trip, where to relax a bit, and which lesser-known spots are worth the detour. Thanks!

Hi everyone,

I’ve just returned from Havana after an 18-day stay from October 8th to 26th.

From Montreal, you have to go through Varadero Airport. I now break up the airport-to-Havana transfer with a SUPER pleasant stopover halfway, in the historic village of Hershey (Camilo Cienfuegos). Quebecer Anne-Marie has renovated a century-old house there, and every stay of mine feels like a peaceful oasis. Amazing food, a pool, impeccable hospitality—I highly recommend it! Casa Cub'Anita.

Life for Cubans remains just as tough, made even harder right now by tropical viruses spread by mosquitoes. It’s absolutely essential to protect yourself properly. That said, the purchasing power of foreign currency hasn’t changed much, despite skyrocketing inflation. As of today, the US dollar exchanges for nearly 500 pesos on the "informal market."

This was my first time staying in Vieja, in the non-touristy part. I discovered some great little restaurants run by the younger generation. Affordable, excellent food, and remarkably friendly service: El Chanchulero (it was about time I checked it out—unbeatable value for money!), El Café, Jibaro...

Cubans are still as warm and welcoming as ever—bicitaxis, servers, markets. Speaking the language is a huge plus.

Essentials to download from abroad before you leave: the maps.me offline maps app, and the La Nave taxi/motorcycle taxi app, which is super efficient for getting around the capital.

Sending my best to all my friends in Oriente as the hurricane passes, especially to Baracoa. I’m planning to visit this winter.

Cheers!

renaldito

Hello, we’re heading to Mauritius for two weeks at the end of October. We’ll be staying in Trou aux Biches. We’d like to explore the island by bus if possible, so if you have any tips, we’d love to hear them. We’re on half-board, so we’ll also be checking out some nice, typical little restaurants and snack spots. Thanks in advance for your help!

Hello,

Here’s our itinerary for 15 days in Guatemala. Does it seem logical in terms of distances to avoid overly long trips? If not, which stop should we cut?

- Antigua - Atitlán - Lanquín - Río Dulce - El Remate – Flores - Guatemala City

Could you help me estimate the approximate travel time for these routes by tourist bus or shuttle?

- Atitlán – Lanquín - Lanquín – Río Dulce - Río Dulce – El Remate - Flores – Guatemala City

Thanks for your help

And we still haven’t seen everything! Before setting off for new horizons at the end of this year, it’s time for me to share my trip to Cape Verde this summer 2025.

I particularly love these spontaneous trips, and our stay in Cape Verde is one of those because it was only at the beginning of April that we decided on this getaway, which had been catching our eye for a while, given our love for the mountains.

As always—well, when it’s open—I turned to VF, and I want to immediately thank Marie, aka ptitortue, who helped me a lot in planning this trip through her travel journals and our exchanges!

Because Cape Verde is both small and vast! We decided not to rush from one airport to another, to enjoy the places and the people, but also to relax, since the work backlog from being stuck in May (see my previous travel journal 😅) had to be caught up on in June.

So, 4 islands will be our winners from 06/28 to 07/19:

Santiago first for logistical reasons, as round-trip flights from the capital Praia were the cheapest (650 €/person from Lyon via Lisbon with TAP, still!)

São Vicente, because it’s the gateway to the next one but ultimately more than that...

Santo Antão, pretty much the main goal of the trip since Marie (and the photos) had really sold it to me.

And finally, Sal Island, for some rest—a non-negotiable condition for my other half—and we’ll see that I should’ve listened to Marie...

That said, what a chatterbox I am—buckle up, flight attendants at the doors, off we go on new beautiful escapes! (Thanks to Sophie for the easy loan)

Last note for my eager fan club 😏: yes, there will be alcohol—how could there not be in the land of grogue!

It starts here:

https://voyageforum.com/v.f?post=10790234;a=10790234

Hello, I’d like to spend 4 weeks in Santo Domingo next January, preferably near the beach for a relaxed, no-frills stay. I’m a senior, and my goal is simply rest and relaxation. Could you share any tried-and-true tips to help me out? Best regards

Hi there,

Assuming our flight takes off, we’re leaving on September 10th... On the 30th, we need to go to Valparaiso by bus—round trip in one day. I tried booking tickets on either Turbus or Pullman from the Alameda station, but neither site lets us enter our nationality because it’s not listed in the dropdown. Is it really necessary to book the bus tickets online, or can we just grab them the morning of—or even 48 hours ahead at the station? Thanks! Odile

Hi, We usually travel using local transportation. In Mongolia, that seems a bit complicated—has anyone tried this kind of trip there? Thanks.

Hi, I’d like to stay on several islands in the Maldives solo with a budget of under 120 € for 2 people per day for accommodation and food. I’m not including transport. Is this possible? On Booking, I’ve found hotels for under 80 € that seem great, some even offer half-board for 20 € for 2. I thought you’d need a much bigger budget… Do you know the price of a meal at a local restaurant on the inhabited islands? And drinks? From what I’ve heard, there’s no alcohol there, right? I’d also like to know if it’s easy to travel between atolls and from one island to another by boat. Do you have any island recommendations? I’m planning to stay for 3 weeks and visit 4-5 islands. This destination is almost always offered as all-inclusive stays with pretty luxurious hotels, so I’m finding very little info on how to do it without pre-organized trips. Thanks for your tips and travel feedback! PS: Long live the return of VoyageForum!

Why not Malta? We thought it was an original, off-the-beaten-path destination... The advantage is there’s a direct flight from Toulouse, our departure city. That’s what convinced us to take a week-long couple’s trip to Malta. I had booked the accommodations (breakfast included) + an airport/hotel transfer on Booking. First stop: VILLA DEL PORTO, a very pleasant guest house in a great location. We were welcomed by the owner, who gave us all the info we needed to get around. How to get to Valletta? By ferry shuttle. Valletta Ferry Service - Cospicua. And for everything else, a brilliant app for the buses that crisscross the island: TALLINJA. I highly recommend this app. We traveled by bus all week without any issues. The next day, we spent the day in Valletta, the capital. That’s when we realized this destination is actually very popular—streets packed with thousands of tourists! Luckily, we managed to navigate through parallel alleys and find small hostels or bars to eat or grab a drink. The city is stunning and steeped in history. On the third day, we took the bus to the south of the island: MARSAXLOKK. A charming, authentic fishing port with plenty of waterfront restaurants and souvenir shops. We ate at CAFÉ DE PARIS—a delicious fresh fish, perfectly prepared. On the way back, we wandered through the beautiful town of Senglea. Then we ordered takeout from D VIRI'S TAKE AWAY near the guest house via email. It was delicious! On the fourth day, we left Villa del Porto and headed to Valletta by ferry to catch the GOZO FAST FERRY—a 45-minute catamaran ride to the island of Gozo. After a good lunch by the port, we took the bus to our destination: XLENDI. A village at the end of a gorgeous bay. We stayed at the San Andrea Hotel—a small room with a balcony and sea view. Fifth day: Bus to Victoria. A magnificent citadel, a meal at a small bar in Piazza San Frangisk, then we continued by bus to the north, stopping in Marsalforn for coffee by the sea and a short walk to the natural salt pans carved into the rock. Back to the hotel by bus. Sixth day: A short walk to Xlendi Tower, a watchtower at the entrance of the bay, beautifully restored. Then we set off on a sea excursion in a small boat for six passengers. Honestly, I recommend it! Two hours cruising along the breathtaking coastline and turquoise sea—20 € per person. www.gozoboathire.com Delicious lunch on the terrace at "The Boathouse Restaurant." Seventh day: We packed our bags again and returned to Malta by ferry to Cirkewwa. The terminal isn’t very welcoming—you have to take a bus to find a town. We had lunch in Mellieha, then continued our journey, still using local buses, to RABAT, next to the ancient fortified city of MDINA. Another stunning city we explored at our own pace once the tourists had left. Eighth day: Bus to the airport. In conclusion, we’re thrilled with our trip. Of course, we didn’t see all the sites recommended by guidebooks, but we wandered at our own rhythm and came back with a head full of memories, images, and great moments spent in Malta and Gozo.

Villa Del Porto Address: Marina Street 1, KKR 1521 Kalkara, Malta Phone: +356 2166 8420 GPS Coordinates: N 035° 53.399, E 14° 31.557

Xlendi Bay

the seabeds in the coves

Hi there, we're planning a trip to La Paz, Mexico at the end of December for a family of four. Which airline should we take? Where should we fly from? Are there any "layover countries" that are cheaper than others? Thanks in advance for your feedback!

We're thinking of visiting Portugal, either in November or next April. We'd rent a camper van for 4 weeks and try to see as much of this beautiful country as possible! Any tips or ideas?? Thanks :)

After visiting Newfoundland Island, we took the ferry to Blanc-Sablon, a municipality located on the Lower North Shore in Quebec, Canada.

Instead of heading back to Quebec via Sydney in Nova Scotia, we decided to explore the Lower North Shore—the least-known region of Quebec—as well as Labrador, which is part of the province of Newfoundland and Labrador.

From Blanc-Sablon, we drove to the municipality of Vieux-Fort via Route 138. This road ends in that municipality.

Afterward, we crossed Labrador to return to the Old Capital. Only one road allows this route. It wasn’t fully paved during our trip, but it is now.

We made stops in different areas to go on hikes that let us discover some incredible landscapes.

I hope this travel journal inspires you to venture into these stunning regions.

Videos are embedded throughout the summary. Click on the image to start the video.

Lower North Shore:

Lower North Shore - Blanc-Sablon - Brador Falls Lookout Lower North Shore - Blanc-Sablon - Astragalus Trail (Milk-Vetch Trail) Lower North Shore - Bonne-Espérance - Granny Hill Trail

Labrador:

Red Bay - Tracey Hill Trail Mary's Harbour - White Water Falls Trail Mary's Harbour - Gin Cove Hiking Trail Mary's Harbour - Dr. Moret Hiking Trail Happy Valley-Goose Bay - Birch Island Walk North West River - Sunday Hill Lookout Trail Churchill Falls - Bowdoin Canyon Nature Trail Labrador City - Tanya Lake Loop Trail Labrador City - Crystal Falls Hiking Trail

North Shore

North Shore - Manic 2, 3, 5 Hydroelectric Plants and Daniel-Johnson Dam Baie-Comeau - Pioneers Park Tadoussac Village

**********

More landscapes of the Lower North Shore, Labrador, and the North Shore

The Avalon Peninsula, located in the southeast of Newfoundland Island, isn't just a picturesque place—it's also teeming with natural wonders: icebergs, whales, migratory seabirds, and wild caribou.

It was the first region of the province to be settled. Moreover, it's rich in legends, traditions, and the history of the early adventurers who conquered the New World.

St. John's, the capital, is one of the oldest and easternmost cities in North America. With its colorful houses nestled in the heart of steep rocky hills, it has the traditional charm of a small port town.

Below are the hikes we did in this region. A link is attached to each hike to give you quicker access to the relevant information.

Videos are embedded throughout the summary. Please click on the image to start the video.

Chance Cove Coastal Hiking Trail Cape St. Mary's Ecological Reserve Holyrood - Salmonier Nature Park La Manche Provincial Park - Suspension Bridge Trail Cape Spear - Lighthouse Trail St. John's - Deadman's Bay Trail Quidi Vidi - Sugarloaf Trail St. John's - Signal Hill National Historic Site St. John's - North Head Trail Loop - Signal Hill Salmon Cove - Salmon Cove Sands Provincial Park

Hi there, I’m planning a family trip to the Netherlands and I’m looking for a good base to visit Amsterdam for the day. The idea is to avoid staying in Amsterdam (to keep costs down) and to be able to get there by train/tram/bus "quickly" (less than an hour). Any neighborhoods or towns you’d recommend? Otherwise, I’ve spotted a youth hostel in the Amsterdam Oost district. Any thoughts on that area?

We’ll be traveling by train from France. I’m also considering renting a car to make it easier to visit places with the kids and to have the flexibility to go to spots without worrying about transport. Where would you suggest staying to easily explore the area? If I rent an electric car, are charging stations easy to find?

Here’s our itinerary: 3 nights in Rotterdam – 5 nights to be decided – 2 nights in Amsterdam (or another nearby spot)

Thanks to anyone who replies! 🙂

According to a recent report, Japan is emerging as the most popular destination for summer 2025, with a notable increase in bookings for Tokyo (+19%) and Osaka (+17.2%) compared to 2019. The depreciation of the yen is contributing to this attractiveness.

Paris remains a must-visit European destination.

The Asia-Pacific region is showing a strong recovery, with cities like Shanghai, Seoul, Beijing, and Singapore ranking in the top 10.

Among beach destinations, Mallorca (Spain), Nha Trang (Vietnam), Rio de Janeiro (Brazil), and Hurghada (Egypt) are particularly in demand.

Tirana, the Albanian capital, is experiencing exceptional growth of +178.8% compared to 2019, largely due to an influx of European visitors, particularly Italians.

Additionally, Jeddah in Saudi Arabia is seeing a 27.2% increase, confirming its emergence as a tourist destination.

Read the article

Hi there, I’m planning a trip to Peru and have estimated how many days I’ll spend in each place. Any advice on must-see sights and tourist traps to avoid? September–October

5 days in Lima

Bus: 07:00→13:30 or 06:00 to 09:30 (express) (3 hr 30 min journey) 3 days in Paracas (beach)

3 days in Nazca

3 days in Arequipa

3 days in Puno (Lake Titicaca)

5 days in Cusco

Thanks in advance

I'm planning a return trip to India next year, and this time I want to check out what's nice on the way up to Manali. Since the bus rides are really long coming from the plains (Chandigarh or even Delhi), I'm looking for a place to stop along the way (my partner and I). I’ve spotted Kullu, about an hour from Manali, but no matter how much I study the map, I can’t tell if there’s an actual town there. We really don’t want to end up in some isolated hotel that’s only convenient for people traveling with their own transport—definitely not our style. We prefer to drop our bags in a room, freshen up a bit, then wander around streets or alleys with at least a little life.

So, I’m wondering if we’d be better off just skipping Kullu altogether.

What do you think, folks who’ve been there before?

Since I didn’t have time to write a proper travel journal, I thought I’d share a few photos of Bologna—a really lovely city I discovered in 2017 while stopping on my way to Tuscany. Around Piazza Maggiore, which was packed with a stage and chairs for a show, stands the Basilica of San Petronio, massive and Gothic in style, with an unfinished façade (a common sight in Italy).





Another building near the square:

But Bologna’s real charm lies in its porticoes, which were added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2021: 62 km of arcades running along buildings, letting you walk sheltered from the sun or rain. Back in 1288, the city required houses to include private arcades for public use. In the city center, you can stroll under 32 km of porticoes in all sorts of styles—some plain, some ornate—with a strong presence of red tones.

Hi everyone on the travel forum. We’re heading to the Cyclades on May 15th for about a month and we’re debating whether to rent a car on each of the islands we’re visiting. Naxos, Andros, Tinos, Paros, and Santorini—we’ll be staying around 5 days on each. Everything’s booked except for the potential car rental. In your opinion, is it essential, or are public transport options good enough for all or some of these islands? Which companies are the most reliable, and which ones should we avoid (we’ve already had bad experiences with companies that weren’t always very professional). Thanks for your advice!

Hi, I’ve booked tickets to Phuket to stay in the Andaman Islands (Ko Phi Phi, Ko Lanta Yai Noi, etc.). I’m really struggling to book our hotels because the reviews are so bad. We’re looking for mid-range to upscale hotels. Any tips or recommendations would be super welcome!!! Thank youuuu

Hi everyone, I’m heading to Madagascar in December 2025 and I’d like to know the one-way fare without checked baggage—just cabin luggage—from Tamatave/Toamasina to Saint-Denis on Réunion Island, please. Also, how many days a week are there connections, and how long does the trip take? Thanks!

I’d also like to know about the route between Réunion Island and Mauritius: where does it depart from, how much does it cost, and on which days are there connections? Thanks in advance!

Best regards,

Hi there, I’m going on a cruise with a stop in Casablanca. I’d like to know if there’s a shuttle or bus from the ship to the train station? How far is it on foot otherwise? Thanks for your help! Mamysosso

Hi, I’m planning to arrive by plane in Johannesburg and cross the Mozambique land border. For a trip of less than 30 days, do I need a visa? If so, how much does it cost? And can I get it at the border? There’s conflicting info online.