Of course, you’re all sitting on the edge of your seats wondering how things turned out with that beautiful Turkish girl. Or maybe not, and you’re simply curious as always about the adventures of Stan the Man.
First things first: a night bus from Ninh Binh to Da Nang. Night buses in Vietnam are generally quite luxurious, and compared to a train in India, everything feels doable. I arrive in Da Nang on the morning of December 26. The city is beautiful, modern, new, lots of high-rise buildings and hotel/apartment complexes. I always do a bit of homework on real estate development and possible investment opportunities, just to keep an eye on things. I notice there are very few houses for sale, and unlike Spain or France, you don’t see many real estate agents around. Maybe a future holiday home in Da Nang? Nobu, the hotel chain for the ultra-rich, is also planning a project here, and I always enjoy tracking these kinds of developments while traveling.
Still, once I’m in Da Nang, I don’t really feel the vibe. It’s a bit Dubai-like. On this cloudy day, I take a walk to satisfy my urge to explore. I check out the neighborhood where I’m staying and do a loop via the Dragon Bridge. It’s also time for a haircut to freshen up. And to stay in the Christmas spirit, I stop by a Christian church to send my Christmas thoughts out into the world.
In the evening, I meet up with Mel. We eat something and walk along the beach. We get to know each other better, and being the gentleman that I am, I walk her back to her hostel so she’s safe. We laugh, share a few kisses here and there, and don’t rush things. The next day I head out on my own, wander through a market, and for €0.81 I eat an incredible dish with frog legs. From that moment on, I decide to do a food tour. Soon after, I stumble upon a bánh mì spot serving one of the best pork belly sandwiches I’ve ever had.
I even help the owner by filling little salt packets for takeaway orders. There I am—sitting on a plastic chair with my knees up by my ears, holding a stapler. I staple about 100 salt-mix packets together with my non–English-speaking Vietnamese friend who fills them while I seal them shut. We smile, that’s our language. Among the locals you’re always in the right place there. Of course, the owner takes a photo as a memory.
Later, near my accommodation, I walk into an open café. Vietnamese men are absolutely hammered, getting pissed on their free Saturday. I order a beer and once again enjoy the male humor. Incredible Vietnam. I visit another market, then decide to go for a 6 km run, which ends at the dragon ceremony on the bridge that takes place every weekend. Fun, nothing spectacular, lots of people. I briefly see Mel again, and the next day we head out together to Ba Na Hills.
Mel gives me a relaxed feeling. I can really be myself, we have fun, we’re both just ourselves, yet together. At first, I didn’t expect that. Naturally, you get to know each other better, and that’s nice. Ba Na Hills is famous for a bridge held up by two giant hands. We go there by scooter with that bridge as our main plan—no idea what else. In the photos, it looks amazing. And it is beautiful. But the fact that it’s located in a kind of theme park, where it’s hard to find the exit and you have to take a cable car up, makes it clear this is one huge tourist attraction. Super crowded and therefore a bit of a downer. Still, I’m glad I’ve seen it.
I have to give them credit—people need to earn money too, even in a place built in the mountains of Vietnam like a mini Disneyland. It doesn’t do much for me, and Mel feels the same. We play tourist for a bit, check it off the list, and move on. Since Da Nang is on the coast and the weather isn’t great, we’re kind of like, “What are we still doing here?” So pack up and go, is my idea. On to Hoi An, 40 minutes away, a much older city.
Once in Hoi An, we walk to the old town. A beautiful river, streets with lanterns, and an amazing restaurant where we eat incredibly well. This is nice and relaxed, with a completely different vibe than Da Nang. The next day, we take a coconut-boat ride on a river in Hoi An. We laugh with the Vietnamese, who’ve turned this into their own Venice-style attraction. Before I know it, I’m handed a bamboo ring—which of course has to go on my finger. One coconut-boat tour in Vietnam for €3 and a ring. Everything here is done in good fun, and that’s what makes Vietnam so great. Mel and I fully play along, and it actually gives me a lot of peace to travel together with someone.
Of course, dear readers, there is also plenty of time on and under the sheets, which certainly keeps our companionship alive every day.
As the end of December approaches, New Year’s Eve gets closer. Even though we could easily have spent more time in Hoi An, we head to Ho Chi Minh City. A 13-hour night bus—and despite dreading it, it turns out to be totally fine. We arrive in the morning, rest a bit, and later in the afternoon stroll through the city. When you’re together, you don’t need much. Mel isn’t into fancy stuff, and I definitely don’t need to impress her with expensive dinners or hotels. She tells me about her time studying in Ukraine and how the war broke out in Kharkiv, near the Russian border. Someone with depth, who understands how life works. That feels good for me.
I come up with a fun date idea for the evening: we go 1 by 1 choosing a place to eat, with rules: only plastic chairs, no Western tourists, no English menu, and we ask for the bestseller. Let it be a surprise. Four restaurants later, the final score includes banana-coconut pudding, fried duck egg, crab, and more delicious food. Along the way, we meet locals and ask them about their favorite restaurants.
Vietnam is truly an incredible food country. Everywhere you go, you can eat and drink unbelievably well, on every corner. That’s how we spend most of our time, just walking around and seeing what we stumble upon, asking questions and exploring ourselves instead of following 100 Instagram or TikTok tips that often create expectations and end up disappointing. Making our own plan and seeing what happens.
It’s New Year’s Eve, and I feel good. I’m in the mood for a party. During the day, I stop by a street barber who trims my beard for free. No way he’ll accept money for it. A big smile for me and a great memory. In the evening, we go to a massive square with Vietnamese pop performances. Thousands of people, everyone out on the streets together. I also connect with some people from my trip and later decide to meet up in Ho Chi Minh’s nightlife street. This is amazing—a huge party with all Vietnamese people. An unforgettable night. The photos say it all.
The next day, hungover, we take a walk through the park. It’s beautiful to see how playful everyone is here, especially in the park. I decide to jog along with a group of Vietnamese people who are starting their year healthy. I do it to compensate for my hangover. Mel does one lap, I do three. I instantly feel better. We continue wandering through the city and end up at a seafood restaurant. For €20, we get six plates full of oysters, mussels, shellfish, all in delicious sauces.
The next day, Mel continues on to Cambodia, and after an amazing week, our paths part ways. No drama, just enjoying our time together, and now we both go our own way again. It gave me a lot, and together we used our time well. Not in love, but exactly what we both needed, without false expectations or drama. I learned a lot from this, and from her. I could just be myself, instead of feeling like I was only giving, organizing, and always being “on.” That’s a beautiful lesson I’m grateful for. Oh and I can learn to count to ten in Turkish now.
As a grand finale, I meet up with my friend Stephen, whom I met in India. At his hotel, we drink a beer together on his rooftop, and I’m in stitches laughing at his stories from India. I love this so much. A beer, local Vietnamese sausage wrapped in a banana leaf, and laughing with Stephen.
The next day, I also head to Cambodia—but first, I visit the tunnels. Vietnam has an intense war history, and I visit the Cu Chi Tunnels. A massive network of incredibly small tunnels and traps. It’s insane when you realize how they fought the war against America here. The tunnels have now been widened for tourists. I’m the first to go in, being the biggest guy in the group—“If you fit, everyone else will too,” the tour guide jokes. Like a snake, I fold myself into the entrance and crawl on my knees about 15 meters to the exit. An amazing tour and really special to see on the way from Ho Chi Minh City to Cambodia.
The bus picks me up, and via a smooth border crossing, I head to Phnom Penh. I end Vietnam in style—what an incredible country.
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