Happy new year

Here ends another full year. A year that proves one can make a lot happen when you take time and give yourself the means to do so. When you believe in it.

One year which proved unknown should never be scary. The unpredictable often brings us way further than all the plans we could have made before.

One year, twenty countries later, everything still has to be done. Starting point : the certitude happiness comes from small things in each and every day way more than in all the world's gold.

All is still to do is wish 2013 will be better than 2012.

To all, a year full of happiness, discoveries, trips, small and big. Most of all, a year full of projects.

To all who made 2012 the best year of my life : thank you!

Mystery in Bangkok

This moment caught on video is full of mystery. With my friend Tom, in Bangkok, I stopped in a temple we couldn't find on any map. We still don't know to this day the name of that place. Near some wax statues, these little coins machines probably have a reason to be. We are still searching. Hoping Tom brought himself some good luck with this coin he invested...

If someone can tell us about it...

The nomad is not sleeping

The nomad is back. Got some rest. But is not sleeping. Can't sleep, in fact. More, his senses are fully awake.

A wise person said you only come back from a trip to leave again. I'm joking! Know nobody who said that. But it could be true.

I said it : I could leave again tomorrow, in a week, in a month. But I will leave again, that's for sure.

Just the time to shake my weary legs and my flight is booked for my next destination. A "rebound" trip, like in relationships, for two weeks. Because "rebounds", they never really last. They are made to forget, to turn a page.

Still, I'll rebound in the vice capital, Las Vegas, in the middle of casinos and rich hotels. Vegas? Really? After a round-the-world trip?

Yes, Vegas! To escape toward the Grand Canyon. To get a tan (!) in Death Valley. To say hi to a couple of Californian friends. And to throw a log in the fire of my traveling interest.

Already, my head is spinning. My brain is finding some plans A, B and C. Sees itself on another continent for a long holiday. Brainstorm before the hurricane of realisation.

If, South Africa? If, India? If, Spain? If, another round-the-world trip? When is the next lottery jackpot given away?

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to all of you who follow my blog. Thanks for reading about my adventures, to pay interest, and to help building them sometimes.

I wish you all some very happy holidays.

Four months later

The blink of an eye, and four months are gone. Four months since I walked through the doors of Pierre-Elliott-Trudeau airport to jump back into normal life. Four months to catch my breath as much as I can.

Everybody says it is hard to come back from a holiday. It is even more difficult to come back from traveling. And the difficulty can only be as big as the trip was.

All in all, the obstacles didn't come from where I expected. Of course, of course, there is that urge to get on the next plane to "anywhere but here". Of course, there are all those memories I hang on to and I don't want to let go, scared of forgetting.

There is also all those unbearable "Time heals everything", almost as disturbing as those "You're still young, you'll certainly live more trips like this".

Yes, but...

Truth is, there is a mourning process. Saying "one lost, ten found" never made things better. Time never fills the holes left by those we are mourning.

Same!

There is a real pain. Not a physical one. But still a pain. A pain the body will remember. Like the couple of pounds we lost along the way we're putting back on. There is a questionning, the need to find back my marks, or to find new ones. And there is a need for a lot of time to breath freely again.

Four months and it's starting to get better. But it will never be the same. I'm starting to get a clear head, but still getting that call for traveling. The best remedy for the blues is using what we've learned on the road. Learned to live with the unexpected. Learned to accept not knowing what tomorrow is made of. And allowing ourselves to change our mind three times a day.

In four months, we work out our resilience. True : it is not nice to lie. But when people ask if the blues are gone, they really don't want to hear us say no. The people, they want to say "dust yourself up" or "get over it".

With time, by chance, I kept in touch with the people I found on my way. And I know I want to keep them in my life for a long time. I know now it is possible.

Four months later, at least, I started to move on. And if I haven't broken the mold completely yet, I'm not giving up on breaking it for good.

Everybody will say "I Love You"

One often asks if I missed people when I was traveling around the world. How I was keeping in touch with the people I left behind from the start. How often I would get news from home.

It takes a part of detachment to leave. I met people who went back home before they got the chance to go to the end of the line the drew for themselves because they got homesick. They couldn't bare the distance, the loneliness or the differences. One needs to do it when the little voice inside tells them to move on.

At the risk of hurting some sensibilities, I never missed anybody. Because I was taking on something way bigger than I thought. Because I was ready, also, and by unprogramming ourselves from a life we put aside, we deal with the present and what it has to offer. That didn't keep me from feeling far from home when bad lucks happened.

With Facebook, Skype and other e-mails options, I could keep in touch. Even if the time difference, sometimes, was not helping. If I rang the "computer phone" more often in the beginning, I found myself searching for time to do so as the trip was going.

For those who need valuation, leaving helps people to figure out how important we are to them. The "I love you"s and the "I miss you"s will never have come that often. Sometimes, leaving helps people not to take us for granted. On the other hand, it helps to make a natural selection in the acquaintances.

After leaving, everybody will say "I love you". Even some strangers we catch on the way who become precious friends. "I love you" (not in a "lover" way) comes easy while wandering.

WiFi, good or bad?

A Huffington Post article (What WiFi is doing to Backpacker Culture) made me think. Was asking myself some questions. Does wifi in hostels, or everywhere, in fact, change the travelers habits? Worst : is it a threat to backpaker culture?

I started going in hostels before wifi was everywhere. You would pay for a 15 minutes internet connexion and move on to do something else. We would play cards with stangers to kill some time. We would socialize because we had nothing else to do.

With time, it became almost impossible to travel without a compter or an iPad. So what?

In Valentina Jovanovski's article, it is written that hostels are more and more full of people doing nothing but looking at their computer screen. True. I am one of those, sometimes. Because it is a simple way to book a flight, a train ticket or a hostel. Because I want to keep in touch with friends and family. Or simply because I don't feel like talking to strangers. So!

If it's true that it doesn't help with human relationships, wifi is definitely an asset. A hostel without wifi is a hostel that is stuck in the past. And nobody wants to stay in the past.

So what is it we can do to encourage people to talk to each other? Nothing! Almost! Because it belongs to everyone to choose how they want to travel. With or without a computer, if one wishes to socialize, he needs to want to do it. Still, in some places, common rooms are so nice that people will start chatting anyway. Huge rooms with a small amount of seats are too common. Choosing a small hostel is usually a better bet.

I don't feel guilty to be connected 15 minutes a day when I travel. I prefer meeting strangers than sending e-mails to those I'm trying to take a distance from. And if I don't find any good mate in the hostel, I'll find them somewhere else.

The challenge will be to socialize those who watch movies in streaming mode or play games online all day long when they travel. There is alway an exception.

So go read that article and share what you think with me.

The good things hostels do

Orie in front of her hostel, the 1166 Backpackers, in Nagano.

The quality of a hostel, of the people we meet there, of the services we get, will influence how we see a city or even a country.

If I've already given tips to choose the right hostel, I thought of giving examples of what made the difference sometimes. I went with the hostels I liked enough to recommend them on my links page.

• Pella Inn - Athens
  The strength of Pella Inn was not in its rooms, small, or in the price of the laundry, very high. In this case, the location was key. It was easy to reach the main sites, like the Acropole. But the main thing was the rooftop bar with a view on the Parthenon. Hard to go to bed when you can admire the ruins all night long. Extra points for the employees, some of the nicest I met.
• Ngoc Thao Guesthouse - Ho Chi Minh City
  In Vietnam, this hostel has a family vibe. That is because it is family owned. You can often meet the owners in their pyjama, in the morning or in the evening, because they live there. Their children play with the clients. And because there is no other employees, if they want to remain open, they'd better offer good services. They make the breakfast and have pertnership with trustable companies for tours. There is enough people to make sure someone is always ready to help at the reception.
• Kyoto Hana Hostel - Kyoto
  Two fantastical ideas, other than the possibilty to rent bikes : curtains around the beds to avoid light from disturbing guests and to give intimacy, and on the inside door of the bathroom, posters with the translation of some keywords in Japanese... It's obvious they are read.
• Goodnight Hostel - Lisbon
  If the mattresses are old, Goodnight Hostel differenciate itself because of the staff who can recognize most of the guests and call them by their name all the time. If they don't remember you, you have with you a card they have given upon arrival to confirm you were a guest. The living room, without a television, has a L shaped couch, ideal for meetings and discussions with strangers.
• 1166 Backpackers - Nagano
  In the house of the only owner, Orie, this hostel feels like you're staying at a local's place. On the first floor, there is a huge table where all the guest sit inevitably. On the wall, a map with pins telling where the previous guest were from. And there is Orie, sometimes offering food or sake...
• St-Christophers - Prague
  Almost a hotel, the St-Christophers has huge bathrooms with toilets recuperating rain water. The lights turn themselves off when there is nobody inside the room. Same for the temperature, which adjusts according to the number of guests. The beds are huge, like the pillows, and lockers on wheels, also huge, are placed under the beds. The large windows can be completely covered by opaque curtains. Rare in hostels
• Adventure Queenstown Hostel and Chalet - Queenstown
  This hostel is owned by an experienced traveler. Decoration is made with pictures he took around the world, with bank notes he gathered traveling. Good idea : the quiz at night. Teams are randomly formed with guests from everywhere. They need to answer general knowledge questions. No choice to talk to each other. Reward for the winners : free beer.
  Congrats for the wooden structures for the beds. No noise. For the bean bags we can sit on in the rooms. For the power supply in the lockers, so you can charge your phone or computer while sleeping. For those velcro tag you put on the beds for 1) claiming them 2) introducing yourself to the other travelers. For the individual reading lights. For the power supply for each bed. One often need to search for them in hostels.
• Hey Hostel - Sao Paulo
  When the owner has traveled around the world for seven months, he knows what he's talking about. 24 h reception, security cameras, a computer linked with a big flat screen on the wall, to help with communications sometimes, a wall completely made of a blackboard, to draw, to leave a message, to inform...  plastic bottles in which spices grow, outside, and of course power supply in the lockers.

All of them offered free wi-fi. Note the inner courtyard, with no roof, used as a common room at Backpackers HQ in Sydney, the restaurant in the hostel at Phoenix Hostel in Shanghai, the warm feeling in Purple Gobelin in Tallin, giving the impression you are couchsurfing, where you can play poker with owners like they were travelers too. Good points for Che Lagarto in Brazil, where they have 110 and 220 volts plugs.

We like the sinks outside the bathrooms too and the typical free dinner some hostels offer sometimes.

Vietnam was a surprise

Sapa

I don't like when people ask what was my favorite country around the world. Because it's impossible to compare Asia with Europe or South America.

I can at least say that one of the best surprises, if not the best was Vietnam. I wasn't expecting anything. I found a lot.

If, for some, the noise of the motorbikes was disturbing, I found it charming. Of course, crossing the street is a hazardous challenge. But with a deep breath and the sense of adventure, you can make it alive. For me, traffic in Hanoi is asian way of life, nothing more.

To travel in Vietnam, it is better to use the services of a travel agency. The prices are usually better and it's easier to make your way around than trying to go from point A to point B by yourself. Even if it is possible.

If you need to see a travel agent in the country itself, you need to know there are numerous fake agencies. One name, written in different ways, can be used by at least ten agencies, all copying the original one. I made that mistake but managed to negociate a good price anyway.

All in all, I was really touched by my visit in Sapa. It's true the type of trip I was doing looked like it was made for backpackers. But I'm convinced you can find something similar and make it the way you want it. With my backpack, I left Hanoi in the evening for a short night without sleep on a hard sleeper, in a night train. It would stop in Lao Cai, where a bus waited to bring us in Sapa.

Sapa is a village in mutation. Hotels are being built at a very fast pace. But a group trek brought us in a school, in the rice fields, in a bamboo forest, in the mountains where clouds are very low in the morning and the evening. Sleeping at a local's place (let's be honest, his house was more of a dorm), in the middle of the rice fields, was magic and restful.

The women from the village are not restful at all though. Accompanied by children, they try to sell at high prices some bags, clothes or bracelets. But there is a workshop in the village itself, hidden somewhere in the market where the Vietnamese go, where they sell the same products way cheaper.

For the rest, towns are only towns. The soup (pho) is delicious everywhere. But seeing Sapa before it steps too much into modernity was priceless.

How to choose a hostel?

USA Hostels in Los Angeles

Even if you want to save money, you need to be careful when comes the time to choose your hostel. To sleep well, it might be necessary to pay a little more.

If it happened that I wasn't satisfied by some of the hostels I chose, I usually ended up in good places. Why?

- Booking early allows to choose in a large number of hostels. But... being last minute might help you take advantage of a cancellation. No place to sleep? Ask at the reception how long they do keep the bed for a no-show. And wait. Sometimes, it works. Otherwise, the fuller the hostel is, the more popular it might be... Could be a good sign.

- Know that websites like hostelbookers and hostelworld only show a part of the beds available. If you call the hostel directly, it happens they might have beds left even if the internet tells you the opposite.

- Look at the average rating. Cross that information with the number of clients who left a comment. The place may have a perfect score of 100 %, if that result is based only on one comment, it might only be the opinion of the owner. I was told some hostels with bad comments erase their account to start fresh. But it's not the majority. A hostel with a few comments only may also be a very new one. It's up to you to see if you take the risk. But if the owners want to keep their business open, they will never offer as many services as when they just opened.

- The comments. If the ratings are important, the comments are at least as crucial. They explain the ratings. Sometimes, people complain because the soap is not included in the hostel. Because somebody snored in their room. Because they didn't like the color on the walls. Because they found dirt on a shelf... You take some... You leave some. But it's a good way to know if the place is a bed bugs nest. If you can see the age of the person who commented, you can also find out what kind of people stays in that hostel.

- Know what you need. Want to sleep? The smaller dorms offers the best chance not to share a room with a snorer. Want to meet people? Big dorms might be for you. Know that younger people travel more on a budget and usually choose bigger dorms to save money. The more expensive a hostel is, the more chances you have to meet young professionnals, in their mid-20's, and older backpackers. I usually choose those.

- The services. In 2012, if you don't have wi-fi in the hostel, you're kind of late. But be careful, in some places, you'll need to pay to use the internet. Search for the word "free" in front of the wi-fi word. On the same subject, most places give free breakfast. Do they have a common room, a curfew, DVD's, a restaurant, parking, lockers, private bathrooms, bicycles to rent, a tour desk?

- The description on the website. Reading the property information helps find out a lot of information. If it is fun, easy to read and complete, you can guess the services will be great. Same for the amount of pictures that show the rooms where you may sleep. Same for the directions to help you get to the hostel.

- Private hostel or a chain? Yes, there are chains of hostels like USA Hostels in United States, Wombats, Saint-Christophers Inn, in Europe, Nomads in Oceania, Che Lagarto in South America or Hi-International, everywhere in the world, like in Canada. These hostels look more like hotels. They have a lot of rooms. The employees are usually very professionnal. The buildings are huge. Impersonal. You are almost sure to find some quality. On the other hand, private hostels, where owners are younger and often live there, are more authentic. There are only a few rooms and it's often easier to meet other travelers there. Cleanliness and services depend on the quality of the owners.

- Location. Some hostel say it "only" takes 30 minutes to get downtown with the metro. Tranquillity might be what you're searching for. If not, the further away you go, the harder it is, usually, to move around.

So, as far as I'm concerned, I mix prices, location, ratings, the number of beds in the dorm and the pictures to make a decision. The result is good most of the time.

And please, if you sleep in a hostel, leave a comment to help other travelers to make a choice.

Why stay in hostels?

Hostel in Xi'an

What is a hostel? Why would you sleep there? It must be impossible to get a good night of sleep in there... You are courageous to go in these kind of places.

When I first heard about hostels, I was 21 years old. I was told it was cheaper and less comfortable than a hotel, that you needed to bring your sleeping bag or to pay for the sheets, that the dorms had 10 beds, that I could get bed bugs, that the showers were dirty and that hot water was often just an option.

Hostel in Beijing.

That is crap! Well, it wasn't really eight years ago. But hostels got better. Backpackers ask for more. The places which can't adapt won't get good comments on hostelworld or hostelbookers or tripadvisor. That is not good for business.

I know what I'm talking about. I visited 58 hostels in six months. At least 75 in my traveling life. I tried several things. And I still book in hostels when I go on the road.

What is true is that hostels are cheaper than hotels. You will find guests between the age of 18 and 80 years old, with more young ones than the ones with wisdom.

The concept : yes, there are dorms. Of 3 to 26 beds. The more beds they have, the cheaper it is. The cost usually includes the sheets, more and more, a reading light for each bed, a locker for your valuables, a wifi connexion and a breakfast. The time where you would get dry bread and a sip of bad coffee is behind you, Most meals are good enough.

If some mattresses make noise or can be uncomfortable, most of the time, it is possible to have a good night of sleep... even if it happens that the roomates are not disciplined enough.

Advantages, other than the cost, the internet connexion and the meal? The employees know trendy places, off the beaten track, or tips to help you save money in the city. They know the public transportation system, know exactly what you should see, speak good english and can teach you some words in the local language. They will write a note for you for the taxi driver or the train station cashier.


Hostels are often really well located or in places you need to explore. If they thought about everything, there is a common room where people gather to chat at every hour of the day or the night. You sit with a group of strangers, you say hi, and there you go, discussion is underway. And the solo traveler finds something to do.

That's the best part of it : meeting other travelers, from everywhere, with stories all more interesting than the others, who travel for different reasons. They also can share their knowledge, tips, life experience.

About cleanliness, again, most of the places are great. Same for the bathrooms, that are more and more private. I once slept in a hostel where the toilet used rain water to preserve the environnement. Efforts are made despite the low prices.

Yes, you'll find a snorer once in a while. Or a sleeping beast who never leaves the bed, event to shower. But for each bad experience, there is a lot of good ones.

Hostels are everywhere... Why not stay there?

Soundtrack of My Life

Music lulls most of our life, if only because the radio screams in the background while we live pure moments of joy or sadness. In some ways, the songs make the soundtrack of our life, because hearing those songs again brings memories back.

I have already posted the Jason Mraz song Details in the fabric, which came randomly while I needed something to comfort me. "Hold your own, know your name, and go your own way" the song says. I had listened to that cd but couldn't recall that song. But one night, watching the sunset, the song made its way into my souvenirs box.

Same for the Coldplay song Fix you, heard at some funerals where I was troubled. To see a 20 year old guy leave for the cemetery, I knew I needed to realize my projects while I could.

Strangely, towards the end of my trip, in the village of Paraty in Brazil, the radio was just emitting noises to me when I heard Fix you. That song wasn't even a single the radios played. The driver had decided to play the cd...

The next day, still in Paraty, I spent the day on a boat. While we were stopping in a bay, the speakers were giving us Details in the fabric. Still not a single. Still a cd. What was the chances to hear both significant songs in 24 hours.

For those interested, here are ten songs that are now in my souvenirs box, which makes the soundtrack of my trip. Luckily or not. You can't choose these things.

Living in the Moment - Jason Mraz
The album Love is a Four Letter Word came out while I was traveling. Living in the moment, the essential of the message of the song, really appealed to me.

Call Me Maybe - Carly Rae Jepsen
Without any doubt the success of the summer, Call Me Maybe, caught most people attention. Was impossible not to hear it. Like it or not, lots of my friends ended up singing it. When I hear it, I still smile.

Aujourd'hui ma vie c'est d'la marde - Lisa Leblanc
I totally fell for Lisa Leblanc's album. I listened to it a lot, especially in Brazil. Her song with very colourful lyrics made me smile.

We Are Young - Fun. 
I admit I did not listen to the lyrics. I only know the title, which they repeat in every chorus. And the melody got engraved in my soul. I was watching those backpackers who were discovering life at the same time they were discovering the world, some were 18 years old, some were 23, and they had fun without thinking of the next day. Because they had time. Because these are the moments they will look back at saying to themselves they lived while they could. And living in the moment, while we can, can make us young too.

Ho Hey - The Lumineers
To be honest, I had never heard of the Lumineers before. That song is the perfect example of a soundtrack playing in the background and making us nostalgic.

Février - Vincent Vallières
Listening to Vallières sing Février (February), on February 29th (for a short month that never ends, like the song says) in New Zealand (around the end of summer in the southern hemisphere), it's really funny. And comforting. When I hear it, I see mount Tangariro getting further and further through the bus window. And me, laughing alone in a sea of anglophone tourists who wouldn't understand the song if I didn't explain.

Your Home - Alanis Morissette
When you have a lot of time to listen to music, in planes, in trains, in buses or while you're trying to cover the noise, you rediscover songs you had never listen to carefully before. That hidden track on the Jagged Little Pill album is a good example.

Home - Phillip Phillips
Strangely, the songs talking about home, about knowing where we're from, wanting to get back to our native land, are always close. Strange in a trip where the notion of the place we call home is blurring... When we're telling ourselves home might not be in a specific place.

I Will Remember You - Ryan Cabrera
Here is another nostalgic touch that reminds me of those people I met randomly and that I now call my friends. Impossible to forget them.

Geneviève Jodoin
When I wanted to listen to french music, I was often playing Geneviève Jodoin G's album.

Traveling at home

Quebec parliament

Who said you can't be a tourist in your home country? It's true we usually feel ridiculous to get lost in Québec or Montréal, while we wouldn't care in Paris or Rio. It's also true that we'll wait to retire to explore the land around our house. And it's also true that we travel more around our country to visit friends than to pay interest to the particularities of some of its cities. Most of the time, I mean.

It's while welcoming an austrian friend that I started to wonder what there was to do in Québec City. Of course, there is the parliament, the Plains of Abrahams, the Old Town, but what more?

I then consulted tourist guides, and to make sure I would get the total experience, I booked a bed in the Hi-International hostel in Québec, on Ste-Ursule street, in the old town. It's also because that is where my friend would sleep.

In two days, walking through the old town, going down in Petit Champlain and the lower part of town, going around Orléans Island and climbing the steps to the top of Montmorency Falls, I found the outside of time freedom of the tourist in me. The same relationship with strangers in the hostel, same relationship with the waitresses in the restaurants, the employees of the shops or the museums.

Which proves there is no need to go far to feel you're away, free.

And there is a little something about feeling the usual atmosphere of a hostel... with something totally québécois. Felt like the average hostel... with nothing to be too impressed about.

In other countries, I was told it's hard to communicate in english in Québec City. It seems like it's getting easier. At least, most of the people tried politely to communicate and to be understood with the non-francophones.

Finally, there is something really interesting about getting the opinions of the other travelers about our cities and our culture.

They are talking about me

My tour around the globe is starting to travel by itself. In November, it is named the blog of the month on the French website Skyscanner, a site to compare the prices of plane tickets. It allows not only to narrow the search on one website, but you get easily an overview of all the prices and schedules for the trip you want to make.

An introduction on who I am and a short interview will be on that site for the whole month. Isn't it great news to throw some light in a grey and boring month? You can train your french skills and read the article on their Actualités page, or directly on http://www.skyscanner.fr/actualites/blog-du-mois-mon-tour-du-globe.

Skyscanner is also available in different languages. You just need to change the language and the country you're from at the top of the page.

The interest of traveling alone

I often get the same question : don't you get bored when you travel alone?

Or sometimes, some people praise me for my courage : I wouldn't be able to do that... I need to share my traveling experiences...

I won't talk about my life. Or maybe I will...

I started to travel alone in my second trip to Europe. About three years after getting on the old continent for the first time.

Truth is out : I was scared a little bit. Taking the plane alone. Arriving in the airport alone without anybody to help me if I got lost...

The thing is, in the plane, I met a perfect stranger who I chatted with. Interesting. In the next plane, which brought me to Warsaw, Poland, I met a French girl who spoke polish. She guided me to my hostel. Pushing back my fears to the next day.

I won't lie, that next days, with the street of Warsaw under my feet, with the signs all written in polish, I was scared. Wanted to sit down and wait for myself to disappear. But life doesn't work that way. Took a deep breath. Kicked myself where I needed to. And hop! I survived. For two weeks.

Three more years later, I left for six months, around the world, still by myself. And I don't regret it. I even met a great friend who describes the ideal woman as a partner who would let him travel by himself. It tells a lot.

Why? Because beyond the fear of loneliness lies a joy I can't ignore. The one to be alone with myself, to learn to have confidence in myself, the one that forces me to make choices. A joy to be 100 % myself, to be able to make mistakes without anybody blaming me for it, to have room to think.

Getting on the road alone, it's controling our schedule, our expenses, our activities. It's forcing ourselves to get sociable. Would you talk to a couple who is looking in each others eyes in a corner of your hostel? Would you want to meet the frat group of five strangers who talks loud and makes jokes between themselves?

When you travel alone, you live loneliness when you want to. You find friends when you want to. You make compromises when you want to. And the beauty of it all is that you don't need to spend time with boring people... unless it's your brother, your "best" friend or a colleague you accepted to bring with you.

I was sick while traveling. Strangers took care of me. I got lost. Strangers took care of me. I wanted discoveries. Strangers made me discover tons of things.

I'm not traveling to feel like home. Traveling in a group, for me, is sharing an experience with others. I like it... sometimes. Traveling alone, for me, is sharing the world. Point blank.

I'm not saying it is the only or the best way to travel. Only, one can only tell what it's worth after trying it.

A matter of choices

Members of a trek hold their drink in a forest near
I wiChiang Mai in Thailand.

I will never say it enough : traveling around the world is a matter of choices. Life in general, you'll say, is full of choices to make. It's true! But still, we have to make the decisions.

Like the decision to leave... Easy, you'll say again, when you have no kids, no house to pay. True again, but every situation has its solution. There is no ideal situation. When you want to leave, you can find the means to do it.

I was criticized for choosing to go around the world in six months. For wanting to visit 20 countries. Some give me weird looks when I talk about it. But I made my own choices. I wanted a hint of every culture while others wanted to sink themselves in it. One's point of view is as good as the others.

I went all the way around the world without having anybody pressuring me to drink one sip of alcohol. I tried some, of course, but I never got tipsy. It's expensive, drinking, some will say. I for one invested in quality meals instead. That's all. I also visited Brussels, known for its beers, and I was in Munich for the Fruhlingfest, a smaller version of the Oktoberfest. But I didn't drink.

You don't need to skydive, to bungee jump or to get sick from malaria to be able to say you've traveled, that you've lived. It's not because something exists you inevitably need to try it.

I've seen vegetarians traveling in countries where meat is almost the only thing you can eat. I've seen people with nuts and fish allergies eat without limits in Asian countries where traditionnal food almost always contain nuts or fish oil. I've seen women traveling alone without any fear for their security. You just need to know how to surround yourself with the right persons and to know how to avoid the biggest risks. I've seen elders sleep in hostels. Families doing the same thing. I've seen people without any money work while they were traveling everywhere they wanted to go. I've seen people moving from places to places so fast they don't have time to make friends anywhere. I've seen people speaking only one language making their own way without understanding anything they were told in a foreign country.

When you want it, you make choices. And you trust yourself to find solutions. You trust yourself you'll find people who will help you, you'll know how to surround yourself with the right people, you'll create a scenario that will be your own.

New York to Philadelphia Therapy

On the World Trade Center site, the new Freedom Tower
is being built

Some would call it a therapy. Others would say it's a way to make things worst. Going on a first holiday trip outside the city, after a heartbreaking comeback to real life, is a double-edged knife. Like the risk you take to see friends you only knew for the couple of hours you spent together before.

I packed everything, Gilly included, and I threw myself on Highway 91, direction Mountainside, New Jersey. All my eggs in the same basket, I was leaving with the intention of spending the four days of me long Thanksgiving week-end away from home.


Four days between New Jersey, New York and... Philadelphia, where I couldn't care less about Grand Central's charm or the Liberty Bell. I was there, that's all.

What a joy to reunite with my traveling buddies. To escape from the daily life that was not part of my life for six months. To reunite with people who understand. Who allow themselves to dream with me.

What a deception to see time fly away so fast. Even when stealing time from time. Even when pushing away the sleep that would have cost us precious hours together. What a deception to snap my fingers on Friday to wake up on Monday, both hands on the steering wheel again, Highway 91, heading towards Quebec.

On my trip, I managed to see the 9/11 Memorial, going through all the security controls, took a return trip on the ferry to Staten Island, and tasted what is known to be the best cheese-steak sandwich in Phillie. To get it, you have to stand in line at Jim's Steak.

In the end, I still don't know if I won or if I lost going through that "therapy". All I know is my head makes me dizzy again.

A week-end outside of time

My philosophy of taking each day at a time is slowly growing on me, but the road I hit to come back is still bumpy, takes some time to get better.

To release a little bit of pressure, I'm going back on the road. Leaving for a better comeback.

I'm offering myself a week-end outside of time. Suspended time. Stretched time.

The remedy for the return is probably to give ourselves some time. But also to leave again, like a progressive travel withdrawal. It is to oppose the old-me against the new-me. To find out which one will prevail.

It's to step out of the four walls which erected themselves around us to trap us in the world of before. The walls we let get closer and closer. The ones which crush us a little bit making us believe the past is just the past, and that it will never be reality again. The walls which tame the big joys of that continent, tame the badlucks of that other continent, promote the vertues of the everyday life.

I'm leaving! I'm going to New York, after an invitation, to reunite with at least two exceptionnal friendships. Friendships I didn,t search for, but that I took a whole world tour to find. Friendships I don't want to let go anymore. Because they carry in themselves some little parts of happiness I don't want to lose.

That impatience is a strange feeling. The impatience of hugging so hard people I've seen once, maybe twice, in my life. Because hugging them that hard stops time.

Those are precious friends I want to stay friends with for all my life. I adopted them in a heartbeat. Told them  they were stuck with me. They answered they're not gonna complain about it. Friends for whom I would drive for seven hours, solo, without stopping, to snatch time... from time. And I'll need to force myself to leave them for seven more hours... solo again.

Those four days with the Empire State Building looming will last forever. They will stay suspended in time. I know it. Other's world will disappear. It'll be our world... My own world.

Without a doubt, I'll come back a little sad, not being able to grab more than just little pieces of this time running by. But at least, I won't have let it go in indifference. And I'll start planning other moments out of time.

The Return

When all your life fits in a 65 litres bag...

It's a great thing to go, but after a while, one needs to go back home. Or not! But let's say one has to... Nobody will react the same way.

Some people will need psychological help really fast. Others will get down the plane like they would get down the bus. Because there is more than one way to return.

Those friends I met on the road, like me, had the same theory. When you know the deadline, you condition yourself, slowly but surely, to the inevitable.

But comes an uncomfortable "bipolarity". Probably inevitable also. Immense joys, long awaited reunions, holy peace to enjoy. Some dark moments as well, of inexplicable loneliness, even after six months on the road... alone, of sadness you can't describe with words.

You realize the notion of "home" has changed. The ties are breaking down. That independance acquired will inevitably lead you somewhere else. After so many goodbyes, you put in perspective those links which become entangled and hold us back.

You realize you've changed. Point-blank. A little bit in other's eyes. But what really changed is not hidden in what others see. It's there, but they won't see. And they get worried about it.


Returning home is surrounding ourselves with people who won't understand. Point-blank. Without blaming them. Just because they were not there. It's feeling trapped with our memories, our new values, our reconstructed identity. And we feel at least releaved, light, to reunite with our traveling partners. Like when we reunite with lifelong friends. Because we live in the same world. We leave from the same point to get somewhere else. We are there, that's all. Sigh of relieve.

The return, it's seeing the outline of the mold, the underskirts which exceed, the steam roller that rushes fast. It's battling every day no to sink in facility, not to embrace the outline of that mold.

"You'll see, with time, everything will come back like before", I'm told.

No! I dont want to go back to "before". Because we're not "before" anymore. Because there is more ahead.

If there is one thing to understand with all those differences I saw, it's that everything is always possible.

One just needs to overcome disorientation induced by change. Wanting to do everything now, to see everything, but not knowing where to start. Realizing even more that one life won't be enough. That some choices will have to be made.

I know, that portrait of the return seems really "grey". Like a painting of a sad clown (or a painting of any clown), it may make you feel uneasy. What's great about coming from an adventure that forced us to deprogram ourselves, it's to live moments of truth, authenticity. We live moments of distress like moments of happiness like they come, without holding them back, because we learned to live day by day. And it goes away!

One day at a time, nice statement that can cure every problem. Because the past is gone, the future is stressful. Just need to know we're going somewhere.

Now on Facebook

Great news! This blog is now on Facebook. You can like the page by clicking here or by going on www.facebook.com/montourduglobe

Yes, the title of the page is in french, as the original blog is in that language. But for now, everything is posted both in french and in english on the page.

You can get the latest news, know about the latest posts on the blog, see pictures you haven't seen yet about my trip or get some hints to start a trip of your own.

The page is still brand new, so the content will keep on coming slowly, day after day.

Meanwhile, I'm working hard on translating every part of this blog so the information is the same as the one you can find in the french part. It'll take some time, but it's getting better day after day. So keep coming back to get the latest news and get the full posts about my adventures.

And thanks for reading me.

If I had to do it all over again

Sapa, Vietnam

I'm getting so late. SO late! In everything i do. Because coming back home, I trip on every line on the floor. But it'll get better. I hope! And I'll be able to restore the speed of the sand leeking in the hourglass to a rythm I'll choose.

While waiting for that to happen, one often asks me what I think about that epic six months getting further and further away in the rearview. If you had to do it all over again... they ask. With suspension points. So I can complete the affirmation.

If I had to do it all over again, I would'nt change a thing. Not a minute, not a second. Nothing! Too bad for that French tourist who thought my trip was too fast to allow me to taste the life in every country.

True that I will never be done with this world. That I still have so much to discover. But you can never regret happiness. One can't wish to go back and change the intoxication that makes him forget life's imperfections.

When I think about it, I didn't learn a lot of words in the languages I encountered. I had an upset stomach almost every day for weeks, even months. My bones did hurt for sleeping on so-called beds made only of a plank of wood and almost no soft material to make that at least close to comfortable. I had so many frustrations not being able to communicate, not knowing where I was going, having to chase visas, lost luggages, train or bus tickets. But I wouldn't change a thing. And it's not to make believe I'm nice or intelligent or full of wisdom, to look like I understood something I did not really understand or to repeat a cliché like "one can never regret happiness".

It's because I feel it right there. I know I made the best decision of my life by sailing away. I allowed myself to become somebody wherever I was, to leave a footprint that is already fading away everywhere I went, but that allowed me to get a better grip on the steering wheel that is driving me who-knows-where.

If I had to do it all over again, I would put that naivety, my fears and my lack of preparation in my big backpack. Like I did back in February. And I wouldn't hesitate to use them to give life to that canvas which would cover itself with the unknown day after day.

Twenty countries in six months, it's tiring sometimes. It's necessary to listen to ourselves. Which I did. But it's being able to compare cultures, appreciate them even more by opposing their own realities.

If I had to do it all over again, I would put the key in the door the day before yesterday and I would fly away with a big smile on my face. How could I ever regret the beauty and the extravagance of this world? Like the rice terraces in Sapa... Unforgettable.

If I had to do it all over again, six months ago, I wouldn't change a thing.

If I had to do it all over again now, with the experience of the last six months, I would go without a deadline, purely improvising, a one way ticket in my pocket, half of the clothing in the checked-in luggage. I would choose a first destination and I would go with the flow, would trust the travelers I would meet. I would explore the small villages to appreciate each country for what it is.

Because that is what the experience of a trip around the globe allows : having the time to take our time with the confidence in ourselves to know we'll always get where we are supposed to be.

The Nomad's Rest

During all my adventure, I published a story about my trip every two weeks in the weekly newspaper La Tribune. Here is the translation of the assessment I wrote for the Saturday August 18th edition.

Source : CUSTEAU, Jonathan. « Le repos du nomade », La Tribune, Saturday August 18 2012, p. 10.

The friendships we make in a trip like this are way stronger than we can imagine. They leave you pensive, always a little sad after each goodbye, and put you in a loneliness you never feared before, like here on Mykonos Island, in Greece.

The Nomad's Rest

Allow me to have a lump in my throat. Allow me to be dizzy, drunk of these six months that went by. By going through the door of Pierre-Elliot-Trudeau Airport, Wednesday, the book closed itself in a deafening noise. I went all the way around the circle, ended six months of traveling around the world. Put the sail away. Went back home. And I still don’t want to hear the alarm of the daily routine knocking at my door.

After six months of sailing from discovery to discovery, I’m still trying to land. I will surely miss that freedom of waking up every morning in a different country. In a country I had chosen.

I will miss those friends I met randomly, those citizens of the world who get their fuel at the same place I do, who understand without asking questions. I will miss that intoxicating feeling I get by pretending I’m Chinese, Greek or Portuguese, acting as if eating at the nearby café, taking the metro, were part of the routine.

I will miss that magic moment where you stop being a tourist to navigate comfortably, being able to find your way in those towns you made yours.

I was told I probably wouldn’t come back exactly as I was before. That I would become a better man. Do we get better because we leave far away for six months? We get more maturity, more wisdom, more madness maybe. But is that making us better?

Six months around the world, it’s far from a hippie trip to smoke weed and grow dreadlocks.

Six months of travel, it’s trying to seize the uncatchable more and more every day. It’s stopping time in every second dripping between our fingers. It’s letting soak some images we might, sooner or later, forget.

It’s accepting to die a little bit more day after day with those moments that will never come back, that we will never be able to describe or explain as they really were. The paradox is to collect so many unforgettable moments that we will probably end up forgetting some of them. And we hate ourselves a little bit for that.

I smiled like an idiot at the back of a tuk-tuk in Cambodia, simply with the satisfaction of living in the moment; I opened eyes that big when I got to see Australia’s coasts; I found unexpected peace in Wadi Rum Desert in Jordan. But up above all this, I will remember those people I met that now define the countries I visited.

In all of those faces, I saw the World! Way more than in those pieces of land or in those ruins all older than the previous one. I’ve found friends for life!

There are actually some moments where you want to stop it all, hug those people so hard so they’ll decide not to go. Because they made us feel at home in this other land, because we would build a house right there, each day trapping in a big bottle that instantaneous happiness.

I found much more in each word I shared with a foreign friend than in each kilometre I went through between here and there. Those friends make you smile, steal a tear from you when it’s time to say goodbye, make you think way more than the wisdom you acquire with this time that, in the end, only can go by. I will miss all these people for whom, in so little time, I became somebody.

Those six months were full of innocent happiness, spontaneous laughter which allow to dig in the children in ourselves to explore, experiment, take risks, stop asking questions and stop worrying about consequences…

Because the more you learn, the more you understand you know nothing. The more you travel, the more you understand you’ve seen nothing. And yet, yet, after 20 countries, 72 cities, 28 planes, 58 hostels and more than 16 000 pictures, one could wish for an illumination or two. Nothing! Nothing but the feeling of wanting even more.

I could disappear again in one week, one month, one year. Hard to stay in place when there is a whole world, out there, that is left to explore. I also want to realize so many other dreams, surf on the vibe I got going.

Six months around the world, it’s also learning to let go. Let go of what you can’t control, of course, but accepting to live knowing you leave each part of happiness behind day after day. You snatch yourself away from those places you like, those people you would like to stay with a little bit longer. One needs to accept it, that’s all.

Six months around the world, it’s living at all costs. Living instead of surviving. Because that life has no price.

Allow me to have a lump in my throat when it’s time to end this trip of a lifetime. Allow me to have a lump in my throat when it’s time to write these last lines that will definitely turn a page I refuse to turn. And forgive me if my head is still in another time zone sometimes…

Pictures Time!

Because I didn't get to post as many pictures as I thought I would during my trip, I take the time to upload a couple of them from the last days of my adventure. Stay tuned. This blog is not dead.

Malecon, Havana, Cuba

Calle San Miguel, Havana, Cuba

Iguazu Falls, Puerto de Iguazu, Argentina

La Boca, Buenos Aires, Argentina

La Boca, Buenos Aires, Argentina