Tour du monde 2/2

The Pekingese in the rain

A light shower interrupts my stroll through the vast botanical garden. Luckily, a gazebo appears; I walk towards it, and there's a man inside. We strike up a conversation. He's a slender Chinese man, dressed casually or perhaps sportily, who knows? He lives in Beijing and turns out to be very talkative and expressive. His English has a strong accent that I have trouble following. After each comment, he bursts out laughing. He's here for the julienne fruit season; I have no id

The reader

I was taking a rehydration break, a bit longer than the ones I saw during the World Cup, comfortably seated on a promontory in the modern sculpture section of the Kuala Lumpur Botanical Garden. A welcome break after walking in the sweltering, humid heat. Lower down in the shade, comfortably seated on a backless bench, a young woman from the Middle East was, unusually, reading a book. She was settled in, her bag on one side, a water bottle on the other, book in hand, head bent

Traveling is meeting people

Traveling is also about meeting other travelers, connecting with people from faraway places who bring us closer to the inaccessible. In the small group visiting the Maori village, there was an asian woman with her two teenagers who were not particularly exotic, uninterested in the guided tour, they retreated to their car, glued to their phones. Sound familiar. So I found myself alone with their mother, not being part of any subgroup. We exchanged a few glances, and gradually

Tewwakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao

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

Travel: escape, discovery

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

Tahiti, the France at the end of the world?

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

Jean-Marie the sculptor

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

Reading in the Marquesas

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.

Clin d’œil à David Hockney au Marquises

Draw on my IPad

Tahuata Island

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

Creating a Facebook group

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/

Day 8 Hiva Oa, the island of Brel and Gauguin

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

Go around the small blue dot

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

Road apples

In the era of peace and love, a young Quebecer sets off to discover Europe after abandoning his life plan and selling his meager possessions. Through the connections he makes, he intimately discovers the crossroads that is this continent, at once so close and yet so far from his French America.

But as he makes discoveries, encounters, friendships, and loves, his family drama continues to haunt him. Inner peace and romantic love remain beyond his reach, and he struggles to put words to the pain that suffocates him: the silence, the difficulty of introspection, intimacy, and commitment.

This coming-of-age novel immerses the reader in the hitchhiking journey of the young man who travels across the continent of his ancestors in this colorful era, but also in the grayness of his struggle with his chimerical warrior.

Available now in Quebec and Europe