Around the world in 120 days

I took part in a guided tour of the village with the incredible name: Tewwakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao. In my group, an Indigenous man from British Columbia was proudly displaying his Canucks colors. At the end, I asked him to do a video interview where he opened up and even thanked me for listening. I was thrilled; I thought it would be one of the highlights of my trip. When I went to watch it again later, I realized I hadn't recorded it. I always try to be quick and di

While Brel inspired my first destination on this world tour, the film *Were Once Warriors* inspired my second stop. This New Zealand film made a deep impression on me when it was released and has remained etched in my memory like few others. I rewatched it, and its power moved me deeply once again—a real Hoka moment. It illustrates, with a wide range of emotions, the downfall of an Indigenous people, the Maori, following the loss of their territory, their ancestral homes, and

I love to travel. I have a long history of travel interspersed with studies, a career managing social organizations, and shared custody of my son, who is now also on his own. I have to say, I'm a child of the traveling world. My parents got married in Paris after a long motorcycle trip from Paris to Morocco. Their happiness is evident in the photos from those moments. They decided to get married in Paris, and I was born in Montreal eight months later. That's where things go

No matter what anyone says, Uber is incredibly convenient when it's available, especially when arriving in a new country. Which was my case yesterday: no worries about the price, being ripped off, safety, or waiting—it's like being at home. Whether by taxi or Uber, one of the joys of this mode of transport is finding a chatty and interesting driver. I was particularly lucky yesterday. A gentleman with a beard and a thick, white, but neatly trimmed head of hair, handsome, dr

This was undoubtedly the most moving moment of my stay in Polynesia. It's difficult to capture in a video the atmosphere of this magnificent place, so full of color, with people in reverence singing melodies… I'm speechless. Listen for yourself, trying to get good sound and picture quality; perhaps the magic will work.

Reflecting on and researching the plight of young Tahitian women also means discovering, through this journey around the world, new variations on the ways in which men dominate women. Everywhere, men have effectively capitalized on their physical dominance to subjugate women and girls into a state of economic, psychological, and sexual subjugation. A kaleidoscope of horrors that is slowly killing the beauty of the world. And for once I will contradict Brel: "And I'm not sur

I thought I'd find myself in a faraway France in the South Pacific, but no, this is Polynesia, French Polynesia certainly, but first and foremost Polynesia with its indigenous population from Asia who still speak their language, part of a large family spread across the Pacific. They have their own president and their own laws. While everyone, except for a few elderly people, speaks French, they don't have a Parisian or Radio-Canada accent. More so than in Quebec, the informal

It's not like in the Gaspé Peninsula

Tattooing is to Polynesia what maple syrup is to Quebec: a pillar of cultural identity. Almost everyone here has a tattoo. The word "tattoo" comes from the local language and is related to Rome… So I took the opportunity to get my first tattoo: a turtle. A powerful symbol in their mythology, it represents for me slow travel, traveling at a human pace. My tattoo artist, Félix, speaks to us with passion about his profession.

I interview people I meet, the collaboration is exceptional, a great experience.

I wanted to leave my mark on the land of Brel and Gauguin without losing my life, so I donated my "Pommes de route" to the village library. This led to a meeting with a passionate book lover.

The world is a vast mirror that reflects us back to ourselves; running away is not an option.

Brel's song drew me here and I made a music video for it

That's what the priests of his time called him, a polite term to describe this artist who left his mark on the history of painting. It's worth reflecting on…

Draw on my IPad

I thought to myself that this small island, with no airport and only 600 inhabitants, might take me back to the Brel era; I was right. I stayed with Félix, the mayor of the municipality and headmaster of the small primary school. I slept in a very modest but clean room. The common areas consisted mainly of a large terrace overlooking equatorial vegetation and the Pacific Ocean, which roars day and night, and with a perfect angle for watching the sunsets, which are admittedly

Throughout my journey, I will be posting clips with minimal editing. These will serve as a basis for more elaborate videos produced by my collaborator, Lilou Moreau-Champagne. Here are some reflections where Johnny Cash pays homage at Jacques' grave. Instant english subtitles are available on Youtube

To make it easier to follow my journey, I've created a Facebook group. I invite you to join us and share it with your friends and family. THANKS https://www.facebook.com/share/g/1DxtJCqp9c/

I walk, I explore, I film it and I draw. Slow travel at its best.

je n’ai pas de « perles de pluie venues de pays où il ne pleut pas » à vos offrir, ici il pleut régulièrement, mais plutôt une perle d’entrevue avec une dame qui, gamine, a connu Brel.

The island at the end of the world, where Brel and Gauguin came to end their days, is something you have to earn. After more than ten hours of flying, I finally managed to land there. This rocky outcrop, a volcanic remnant, does not give itself up easily. With an area 50% larger than the Magdalen Islands, its summit rises to over 1200 meters, higher than Mount Albert in Gaspé. Building an airport there was not easy, as it is wedged high up between two peaks. Clouds clung to i

Brel and Gauguin fled to the ends of the earth, and going there was a must for me, but the ends of the earth are earned. The bad weather remained stuck on their little island peak; five landing attempts and ten hours of flying later, we were back in Papeete. Panic, but not too much. I unleashed my charm on the Air Tahiti staff and finally managed to get a reservation for the next day. During the flight, I edit a video and work on finalizing some iPad creations.

This morning, I got lost. I like getting lost elsewhere, in places no one would normally go, uninteresting places, far from the hordes of tourists. But these lost places are precisely where you find the essence of the country you're visiting. Where people live. Here, more specifically, the Polynesians, whom you can recognize by their tanned skin, while the French are generally white-skinned, as Nougaro said. I got lost in a modest neighborhood of dilapidated houses, where the

I had to take a connecting flight in San Francisco to get to Papeete and spend the night there. I'll go back when the orange monster has cleared up. The air was thick with smoke from forest fires, a common occurrence here; some people can no longer afford home insurance. But this city inspired me to make a short video.

You can now purchase the paper version of Pommes de route: In Quebec: On the website of independent booksellers Renaud-Bray Archambault At Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec At the City of Montreal libraries In bookstores: Montreal: Wasn't it summer at the bookstore? The Traveling Book Workshop-Bookshop A Book of One's Own Bookstore Multimag 6951 Saint-Laurent Blvd. Quebec: Pantoute Bookstore Sutton: Chocolate Shop/Bookstore L'échappée belle Joliette: Literary Conf

Le petit point bleu duquel je vais faire le tour "I will go far, very far Like a bohemian Arthur Rimbaud I'll go far without being a bohemian, much less a poet. Just a simple bourgeois bohemian, not like the well-fed bourgeois of Brel, no, an ordinary bourgeois because I was born in the right place at the right time. In the post-war boom, 600 km from New York rather than Moscow, Cairo, or Buenos Aires. Born to cultured, brilliant parents, but with a rather lax parenting s