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.