Thailand swapped for Vietnam. I land in Hanoi in the north, and my plan is to slowly make my way down south. Initially, I want to do that by motorbike, but it’s too long a stretch for the time I have. First, I want to explore the country a bit and get my bearings, maybe I won’t even like it here. Taking it day by day is still the plan.
My first real introduction to Vietnam was actually in India, where I laughed my head off because of Stephen. I thought only he was like that, but it turns out most Vietnamese are like that stereotype. The moment I get into a taxi from the airport, I’m already in laughing again. The same goes for my hostel, where I’m welcomed in an incredibly warm and friendly way. The men are always up for a joke, especially when it comes to sex, alcohol, or women—easy laughs guaranteed. The Vietnamese English accent is music to my ears and always entertaining. The stereotypical Vietnamese person truly exists, and when I think back to my meeting with Stephen, that was kind of love at first sight with Vietnam for me.
At my hostel, there’s an evening manager who studied in Emmen (the Netherlands) for four years. With a big smile, he welcomes me and proudly tells me about his time in Emmen. Broken Dutch, a few words like “god damn,” and counting to ten. Once again, I’m having a great time. A warm welcome for me. His name is Ducky—yes, you read that right. I explore Hanoi’s evening streets, have a beer, and of course the urge to explore kicks in here too. The next day I hit the streets to discover the city. It’s insanely busy with scooters, a bit chaotic, and it reminds me of India. I’ve been told this country is extremely cheap, so let’s test that. Do you remember the cashew nuts in Goa (India)? The cashew nut index is adjusted at a market in Vietnam: €6.50 per kilo. That’s already a margin, since in India the price was around €8.00 per kilo. Still a fun way to think about it.
From the market, I continue past countless coffee shops. Vietnam is the second-largest coffee producer in the world after Brazil, which is impressive given the size of the country. I almost never drink coffee, rarely, but here I decide to try it. With success, because the specialty coffees here are amazing: egg coffee, salted coffee, coconut coffee—pure enjoyment everywhere. Of course, I pay the price, not so much in Vietnamese Dong, but at night with sleeplessness from the caffeine. Two coffees are enough to keep me awake all night. Note to self: don’t do that again, even though it’s delicious and tempting on every corner.
After my first two coffees, still unaware of the sleepless nights ahead, I continue my self-made route around the city. I hear music and follow the sound. I stumble upon a colorful ceremony around a small local temple. Beautifully dressed Vietnamese women dancing toward the temple entrance. I sit on a plastic chair and enjoy the local experience. It’s not perfectly rehearsed, which makes it even more entertaining. I suspect a new woman is being inaugurated. After some Vietnamese chants, I move on toward the communist squares, huge and impressive. Communism and national pride are clearly still visible here. Vietnamese flags everywhere, and many streets have their own specialization: woodworking, steel, meat, bamboo ladders, home furnishings, shoemakers, printers—entire streets full of the same type of shop. Handy for competition when your neighbor is your competitor.
Vietnam really is a military state. You notice it in the security around imposing buildings and the glorification of war heroes. I tick off the tourist highlights and walk more than 15 km through Hanoi. In the evening, I of course make time for my friend Ducky. I also book the Ha Giang motorbike tour for the next day, a four-day motorbike tour with a large group in northern Vietnam, one of the highlights of the country. One day by bus, and then from Ha Giang, touring with about 50 people in groups of 8–10. The Dutch group is fun, the mix is good, and since you’re together for four days, it gets very social. Everyone does this tour riding pillion with their own driver, but I choose to ride myself, steer in my own hands. That makes me a unique, and I don’t regret it. Backpack on the back, cruising on a small Vietnamese motorbike through fantastic landscapes, rice fields, mountains, and local villages.
Every evening is a big party with the drivers and other groups—karaoke, of course, and the local drink “happy water.” Lots of stops every day, seeing a lot. The social moments during the breaks are unique. You really get to know each other, and I have a lot of fun with the local drivers who teach me Vietnamese words and burst out laughing—then you know they’re naughty words. My energy is great, I can really be myself, joke around, and feel very alive. The mix of ages between 20 and 35 makes it perfect.
It’s also incredibly impressive to see how Vietnamese people live in the mountain villages. Near the Chinese border, it’s mostly farmland. Life is remote; sweet, beautiful children have very little, yet they seem more playful than anywhere else. Badminton, cycling, football, memory games, drawing—really joyful playing. People are together, live outdoors, work, laugh, and truly live with and for each other. The local drivers tell us about the region, and every day we ride about 100 km through the mountains with many stops, coffee breaks, and lunch spots with stunning views.
Every evening is a party, and I wouldn’t be myself without a bit of flirting, this time with Ruby. Beautiful dark eyes and “a girl with red hair”… an English one. Always fun. The last evening is all about a pool party, and I make a small promise to Ruby to get in the water. Normally, a promise is a promise. This time, not really, when she jumps in first, I have to follow. Once two sheep are over the dam, the party explodes and everyone jumps in one by one. One big party: a Vietnamese kid on my shoulders in the pool, music blasting through the whole village! A fantastic ending and an epic last night.
The next day, everyone—obviously hungover—gets back on their scooters for a final ride, and during the seven-hour bus trip back to Hanoi, it’s very quiet. From Hanoi, I head to my next destination the following day, but not before trying the restaurant where Obama and Bourdain ate. They were here in 2016, and the restaurant is still exactly the same. That says a lot about the Vietnamese lifestyle—focused on itself rather than Western-style constant growth and “more, more, more.” The menu is the same, plastic chairs for the local vibe, and the food is amazing. No frills, no pretension. Definitely worth Googling the Obama & Bourdain photo/video. With a full stomach, I head to my next destination: Mai Chau, 3.5 hours from Hanoi. It’s just before Christmas, so I’m figuring out where I want to spend it—in peace. Mai Chau is also a mountain village, but much quieter. Along the rice fields, I recover, catch up on sleep, and eat healthy. Few social stimuli, just recharging. I drink some coffee, walk through the rice fields, drink a coconut, get admired for my big body among giggling small Vietnamese girls, and enjoy the calm surroundings.
There’s not much to do in Mai Chau, so I decide to go to the more touristy Ninh Binh for Christmas Eve. I already know it will be a different Christmas than usual, but I choose to spend it among people. Christmas doesn’t mean much to me this year, but I’ll remember it nonetheless. I don’t really miss it either, and that feels healthy. My family bond is strong, so it feels powerful to not celebrate Christmas together this year. In Ninh Binh, Christmas Eve is cozy: a big buffet, good vibes, and a large hostel full of people. I enjoy a beer, live music, and later some karaoke in local Ninh Binh. What more could you want? There are far worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.
The next day, I head out with Jose to a national park. A long ride on our little motorbike along a highway between trucks… We reach the park and enjoy how quiet and empty it is. A beautiful cave is the highlight, and back in town we have Indian food for dinner on Christmas Day. After dinner, I take the night bus to Da Nang. I notice I’m really in a flow, meeting people very naturally along the way. While waiting in the lobby with my backpack, I see a girl struggling with hers too—a beautiful Turkish girl… you guessed it, same final destination: Da Nang. Different bus, though, so we keep in touch… more on that later.
My first days in Vietnam are amazing. An incredibly beautiful country, wonderfully kind people, great tourist spots, and far beyond my expectations—which, to be honest, I didn’t really have for Vietnam.
The best way to end this blog is simply: LOL!
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