“After two days of endless travel, the end of the road feels like the end of the world, just one more... Flags with the sickle and hammer of the Maoist guerrillas fly from some of the rooftops of these villages cut off from the world and the century.

of these villages cut off from the world and the century. Slow climb up the mountain to the coffee plantations.

The village chief leads the way for our little party and quickly stops in front of a “magnificent” bear turd, shiny and fresh. Our paths have just crossed. The New Zealand agronomist is worried. The village chief arms himself with a stick, and we resume our

our walk. Already 1500 meters and still climbing. The light camera quickly gains weight with the altitude. The forest is dense and powerful. We sometimes have to crawl under the coffee trees. I think silently that I might come face to face with the bear. I keep quiet.

The agronomist expresses the same concern aloud. The village chief is reassuring, raising his derisory stick and speaking in Telugu: “Thanks to our work, the forest is coming back.

The bears are back. You mustn't walk around here after 5pm. In the morning, between 5am and 9am, it's forbidden to villagers.” It's 9:20, and I hope the bear's watch is on time.

A day's walk. First shots. Everything is more beautiful, more complex and rougher than I imagined. I'm received like a prince. For dinner: fatty rice and two bananas.

A trickle of 4G from time to time, thanks to my Indian friends' cell phones.

The Long Walk will resume tomorrow under the coffee trees, without Mao! The night is cool and I'm off to find my sleeping bag.” Frédéric