Blog

1. FOREWORD

However, I had yet to visit the provinces located north of Saigon. So, it seemed only logical to fly once again to Vietnam’s largest city to tick the box for the southern portion of Vietnam.

2. VIETNAM IN A NUTSHELL

For those who are unfamiliar, Vietnam is a country in the southeastern portion of Asia, together with the likes of Thailand, Cambodia, Malaysia and Indonesia. In addition to that, Vietnam is a very interesting country. If you look at Vietnam on the world map, it quickly becomes apparent that it is rather long from north to south (~1,650 km) and quite narrow from east to west (only 50 km at its narrowest section). So Vietnam is somewhat like Italy, but instead of a boot, it resembles more of an awkward “S” or a sickle shape.

Speaking of the sickle, many people know that Vietnam is formally a communist country. Indeed, you can see hammers and sickles, red flags, your occasional Lenin Park and various communist slogans all across the nation. However, this certainly does not mean that the Vietnamese people, as a whole, are ardent followers of Marx, Mao, or Stalin. Rather contrary, the Vietnamese are an intelligent bunch of people, who are extremely resilient, with a great sense of humour, and well aware of what is happening around the world. And once you understand that, you will quickly realise that most of the Communist Party’s small efforts – the flags and the banners that you may see on the streets – are largely just a parody. Of course, this does not mean that you will not find people who try to follow the party’s line for the sake of professional and economic stability.

With a population of about 100 million people as of 2023 (more than Germany or two Spains), Vietnam is certainly not a small nation. Although the majority of the Vietnamese people are ‘ethnic’ Vietnamese, or Kinh, there are also numerous minority groups living alongside them – Tay, Tai, Muong, Hmong, etc. Furthermore, in Vietnam, as in most larger countries, you can easily open up a map and divide the country into larger sections based on historical, cultural, culinary or other variables. In the case of Vietnam, the sickle-shaped country is often cut into three portions: North, Central and South Vietnam.

It may also be useful to know that for more than a thousand years, the current territory of Vietnam was ruled by various Chinese dynasties. As a result, significant similarities with China can be seen in Vietnamese culture and language (up to 70% of Vietnamese vocabulary is estimated to have Chinese origins), as well as in their beliefs and superstitions. However, perhaps more surprising may be the fact that before modern Vietnam became independent, from the late 19th century to the mid-20th century, it was actually a French colony, being part of what was then known as the French Indochina. For that reason, do not be surprised to see well-kept churches, European architecture and French-style baguette bread, which the locals have transformed into Vietnamese-style banh mi.

This short summary of Vietnam seems to be getting out of hands now, so let’s get back to the journey…

3. THE JOURNEY: SAIGON-DALAT-VUNG TAU-SAIGON

February 26 – March 4

Saigon – Nam Cat Tien

I arrived at Saigon’s Tan Son Nhat Airport at 08:50 on Sunday morning. Tan Son Nhat, which literally translates into ‘New Hill Number 1‘, is a good example of what happens when you try to translate Vietnamese or Chinese names into a foreign language (hint: the words lose all meaning). At the airport, I was greeted by a customs officer, whose wide smile revealed a set of teeth which were dark and stained, probably from drinking too much tea. I did not let the gentleman’s smile to flatter me for too long, because I was on a clear mission to explore the beauty of South Vietnam.

The driver was already waiting in front of the airport. We exchanged a “xin chao” (Vietnamese for “hello”) and I entered the cigarette-infused Mitsubishi, which was to transport me to the motorcycle rental store (I strongly recommend Tigit Motorbikes). Since the aim was to get out of the city as quickly as possible, a rental motorbike was the best way to achieve it. In fact, the whole plan was to spend the next five or six days as much as possible on the road, in the villages, in farms and in the nature, or in other words, away from the pollution and the noise of the city. It was an exciting plan, because I have learned from my previous travels that the soul and the heart of a nation is best represented by its countryside and by the people who feed the country and preserve its traditions as best as they can.

My travel companion to be was the most basic semi-automatic Honda Blade motorcycle, for which I had to pay 1.75 million Vietnamese dong, or roughly 70 USD. The fee included 5 days of rental along with new helmets, gloves and full insurance. A bargain, if you ask me.

At 11:00 AM, or around two hours after landing, I was finally able to jump on the saddle to begin the exploration of the new frontiers. Since Vietnam has its own distinct traffic ‘laws’, I generously afforded myself the first 10-15 minutes to adjust with the unique motorcycle-centric traffic. Indeed, Vietnam has many motorbikes. In fact, the estimated figure for motorcycles stands at 65 million, a figure which does not include the millions that have not been officially registered. Amidst this chaos, driving without a helmet is common and you may often see small children, or several of them, riding a motorbike, with their hands and feet barely touching the handles or pedals.

All this may sound hectic, but once you find yourself in the midst of Vietnamese traffic, it actually does not feel dangerous. Although the general rule is that there are no rules, there is clearly a system of mutual understanding, and generally, it works quite effectively. Furthermore, the overall speed of the traffic flow tends to be rather modest and drivers, including on major roads, rarely drive more than 50 km per hour. Nevertheless, within the first 10-15 minutes, I witnessed a motorcyclist with large grocery bags crash into the curb, resulting in what appeared to be a rather painful face plant.

After riding for half an hour or so, I had reached the Nha Be River. Dozens of motorcycles had lined up, all waiting for the arrival of an old ferry, a scene that is more than common in the Mekong Delta, known for its numerous rivers and canals. After handing 6,000 Vietnamese dong, or roughly 25 cents, to a charming ticket lady, I was ready to roll onto the crowded vessel. In a matter of minutes, the engines began to roar and the ferry was yet again moving as I watched the brown river water turn into white foam as it beat against the hull. A few more minutes and I was already on the other side of the shore, leaving Saigon and entering the rustic Dong Nai province.

Although I was officially out of Vietnam’s largest city, Saigon, I was not really out of the city yet. Namely, Vietnam is well known for its stretched out settlements, or linear villages, as they are formally known. So, it is common to find yourself driving on a road where narrow Vietnamese homes (often no more than 2-3 meters wide) are in an almost continuous row for countless of kilometers, only with occasional, and sometimes equally narrow, rice fields in between.

Around 150 kilometers from Saigon, I stumbled upon yet another beautiful church. Across the road, a friendly looking gentleman with a neon green vest was assisting children to attend the regular Sunday Service. To my surprise, Mr. Nguyen (pronounced ‘win’), whose family name is shared by around 40 percent of the Vietnamese population, addressed me in clear English: “Welcome to the Paris of Vietnam!”. We conversated about the beauty of languages and cultures, and I had made a new friend!

Before getting back on the road, I quenched my thirst with a 8,000 dong (30 cents) coconut. And, oh boy, what a thirst quencher it was. In fact, in hot climates, I believe there is no better drink than the beautiful water that is hidden inside a coconut. Together with its delicate jelly, there really is no better treat in the sweltering heat.

After finishing the much needed drink, I decided to ignore the GPS’s recommendations and diverted from the main road to a much smaller one. Very soon, I found myself in the middle of large banana plantations, where patches of young banana trees alternated with burned fields of old tree stumps which had already served their purpose. From one of the burned fields, I collected a bunch of neglected bananas, which I then symbolically hung on my motorbike’s luggage rack to blend in with the locals who always and everywhere utilise their motorbikes to carry something: an entire family of four, a 50-kilogram bag of corn, or a cage with a dozen chicken.

Next to the banana plantations, I noticed a beautiful tree loaded with red fruits  – it was Java apple, commonly known as wax apple. While back home, I may see spruces, birches, alders and pines, in Vietnam, fruit trees can be found almost everywhere. Since roads and streets are often lined with fruit trees, such as avocados, pomelos and guavas, and much of the fruit often goes to waste, I felt no shame in picking a fruit or two and enjoying the crunchy treat whilst appreciating the view of the banana fields and the adjacent lake that was stretching to the horizon. As an edible fruit enthusiast, it goes without saying that Southeast Asia is an absolute paradise.

As the sun began to set, I decided to return to the larger roads. On the way, I crossed bridges and enjoyed the views of rivers and lakes, where fishermen were casting their nets into the water. I also noticed floating fish farms, which reminded me of the Mekong area. This time, however, the setting was vastly different. Whilst the Mekong delta is as flat as rice paper, here, I could see hills appear on the horizon and the roadside villages were dotted with massive boulders.

It was already dark when I arrived at my destination: 📍Nam Cat Tien village, a relatively remote location, which is situated right next to a national park carrying the same name, and is equally popular among local and foreign tourists. I stayed overnight in a farmstay, which also functioned as a commercial farm. The farm mainly grew pomelos, but also all kinds of fruits and vegetables grown for personal use. Upon arrival, I was treated to a traditional Vietnamese pho, fried rice noodles along with water spinach prepared with garlic. To wash it all down, fresh passion fruit juice was waiting for me on the table.

Nam Cat Tien – Da Lat

I woke up a little before six in the morning. The sun was just rising behind the pomelo trees and a large pot, which had turned pitch black over the many years of use, was boiling on the fire outside. There was pleasant freshness in the air as gentle breeze rustled through the branches, and somewhere in the distance, a bird could be heard singing, only to be interrupted by the crowing of a proud rooster.

I walked a few laps around the farm, which must have covered at least several hectares, and admired the beautiful fruit trees, including cluster figs, jackfruits, durians, cashews, guavas, mangoes, loquats and various citrus fruits. Between a big patch of banana trees, I noticed a civilisation of its own – a straight-backed rooster and a few dozen hens, who had laid eggs between the dry banana leaves. It appeared to be a wonderfully harmonious and self-sufficient system, and the landowner had undoubtedly done a good job not only growing their own food, but also generating income in the form of commercialising some of the fruit and providing accommodation service.

After completing my morning walk, it was time for a simple breakfast meal, including Vietnamese-style sandwich bread banh mi and a glass of iced coffee made from rough but delicious local robusta coffee beans.

After devouring my breakfast, it was time to hit the road again. It was going to be a long day ahead with more than 250 km of distance to cover, including multiple mountain chains to cross. At Nam Cat Tien, the first hills had already appeared, but far more prominent mountains were visible on the horizon. Overall, I had every reason to be excited. I was about to enter the Central Highlands, the coffee capital of Vietnam, where the surrounding landscapes and the nature appeared to be remarkably lush.

Although using a scooter or a motorcycle is undoubtedly the best way to experience Vietnam, it also has its drawbacks. For instance, riding a motorbike can become quite tiring for your lower back and bottom. This is particularly true if you are not maintaining the right posture and even more true if you are covering long distances on a motobike such as Honda Blade. For that reason, among others, the importance of regular rest breaks should not be underestimated.

After a few dozen kilometers from the pomelo farm, I decided to do just that. I ignored the GPS’s instructions yet again and turned off the bitumen road onto a smaller gravel road. The small path wound its way through an alley of cashew trees and after a few kilometers reached a dead end. The dead end was marked by a bridge and a river. Across the river, a beautiful tempel with an oriental-style roof and layers of green mountains could be seen. The birds were singing and there were speakers scattered around the area through which a calm voice kept repeating in Vietnamese language: “Everything is temporary and everything is impermanent.” I had found a perfect place for a rest break.

After finishing my break, which consisted of marvelling the bonsai trees, the flowers and the Buddha figures, I crossed the bridge yet again, where I was now greeted by a crowd of people, including a monk, a nun and a mischevious dog. We chatted for a while, after which the nun invited me to join for a meal with the commune. An invitation, which I regretfully had to decline due to the many kilometers that had yet to be covered. However, it was a reminder of how so often it is the case that some of the best surprises are experienced on the back roads and during rest breaks, when the there is no destination and the GPS instructions have been turned off.

As the journey continued, it became increasingly obvious that the roads were leading towards ever higher elevations. This was also indicated by noticeable changes in temperature. Whilst the average temperature in Saigon had been consistently around 33-35C, the air temperature here was at least 5-7 degrees lower. It was pleasant. Along with the changes in temperature, the vegetation had also changed. Massive tea and coffee plantations had suddenly appeared and they were to dominate the landscape for the next 100 kilometers. We were, indeed, entering the Central Highlands – the most important tea and coffee growing area in Vietnam.

As a stopover, I visited the roadside tea plantations and observed how tea leaves were picked and dried. From time to time, I enjoyed yet another coconut or grabbed a cup of Vietnamese coffee from one of the local roadside stores. It was the end of February, which meant that the coffee plants were fully in bloom. This resulted in beautiful fragrant perfume, which was emitted by the tiny coffee flowers and could be smelled throughout the road.

It may be surprising, but Vietnam is not a small player in global coffee business. In fact, it is a little known heavyweight that produces more than 10 percent of the world’s coffee, with only one country growing more: Brazil. However, unlike most other countries, Vietnam produces very little popular Arabica variety and specialises mostly in locally appreciated or sometimes blended Robusta beans. Robusta, which is definitely worth a try, has a unique flavour profile and exceeds the caffeine content of the Arabica bean nearly twice.

From time to time, the road headed to lower elevations again, which introduced warmer tropical air and plants that thrive in such conditions, including banana trees. Along the road, small temples and altars could be seen, where the locals burned incense and brought offerings in the form of fruits, water bottles and cigarettes. Whilst the Vietnamese are not very religious, they do tend to be rather superstitious.

At one point, I noticed a giant tree, under which the locals had built almost a dozen altars. It seemed like a good place for another rest break. The giant tree provided shade and the view of the coffee farms behind it, at the bottom of the valley, was breathtakingly beautiful.

The afternoon sun was blazing and it was still nearly four hours of riding until my destination. So, it was critical to really press on the gas pedal in order to avoid being trapped by the darkness of the night in what was going to be the most mountainous stretch of the journey. So, in the following few hours, I only made a couple of brief stops to enjoy a giant Buddha statue and to marvel the pine forests of Dalat area, which closely resembled the more temperate regions in mainland Europe.

As the sun was setting, I had finally arrived in 📍Dalat, which with its mountainous topography, relatively cool temperatures and European architecture stood out as Vietnam I had never seen or experienced before. The organised streets and clean roads with its unique Vietnamese character quickly became a place which I would easily consider love at first sight.

As I entered the perimeters of the city, I was greeted by an old auntie who was sitting on the corner of the street. She was busy cooking one of the cornerstones of Dalat’s fast food scene – banh trang nuong, or literally known as ‘grilled rice paper cake’. Exhausted and hungry from the long journey, I immediately ordered what may be the Vietnam’s interpretation of pizza. The lady took my order with a smile, placing a rice paper on the grill, cracking an egg and adding cheese, green leaves, various herbs, etc., all the while poking it with a wooden stick which in its previous life had been a fence picket.

Since the outside temperature was dropping rapidly – so much so that the breath turned into steam – the warm and spicy snack was a perfect treat. As I took my last bite, I noticed that the sun had suddenly disappeared behind the mountains. It was dark and cold and it was time to call it a day. I used the fresh tea leaves which I had picked in the morning to make some tea and then called it a day.

Da Lat – Vinh Hy

Vietnam, like much of Asia, is awake early in the morning and goes to sleep late in the evening. To make the most of the morning hours, I woke up early as well. The air was cold, but the small streets of Dalat were already bustling with activity and the atmosphere was filled with pleasant smell of breakfast food. The banh mi vendors were serving fresh sandwiches to their first customers, warm steam rose from a noodle stall, and the smell of soy sauce, shrimps, vegetables, and fried eggs was lingering across the city. Cruising along the cozy side streets of Dalat, I now understood even more clearly why the humble mountain town had left such a strong impression on me the day before.

No doubt that the French, back in the days of Indochina, had also appreciated the location of Dalat, as they founded the city early last century to function as sort of a holiday town. Today, however, Dalat is no longer small and has a population of a medium-sized city. Owing to its location, sitting at an altitude of roughly 1,500 meters, the climate here is significantly cooler than in Saigon or the Mekong Delta as a whole. Not only offers this a more favourable temperature for living and tourism, but also a unique agricultural climate to cultivate crops that would not grow easily elsewhere in the country: apples, strawberries and flowers of different sorts.

After finishing the breakfast, it was time to jump back on the motorcycle and begin the journey down the mountain and towards the sea. The aim was to reach a small fishing village of 📍Vinh Hy before the break of dawn.

It was hard not to look back when leaving Dalat. In less than a day, the mountainous city with its lakes and countless of church towers had left a strong impression, and one day was certainly not enough to see the city in its entirety. However, the curiosity about what lay ahead was even greater, so ahead I went, braving the winding mountain roads and making the most of the brake discs.

Over the next 30 km, the road crossed two large mountain chains. Before leaving the outskirts of Dalat, I was greeted by endless fields of strawberries and hundreds of greenhouses, which covered the surrounding mountains and valleys as far as the eye could see. A little bit further, in the lower portions of the mountain range, the temperature rose, as did the humidity. Suddenly, I found myself surrounded by thick fog and the rolling hills no longer had greenhouses, but vast tea plantations. Riding further down the winding road, the fog disappeared and the familiar pine forests once again appeared.

Within a matter of hours, I had crossed both of the mountain ranges and finally reached the valley floor. We were once again greeted by rivers, tropical greenery, coconut palms and rice fields. Occasionally, water buffaloes were raising heads as they were grazing on the rice fields, and the national flower of Vietnam, the lotus, was sprouting in the ponds. Looking back on the ride down the mountain, in just a few hours I had seen different climate zones, each characterized by its own unique flora and fauna.

As I was approaching the ocean, or rather the East Sea (internationally known as the South China Sea), the lush greenery gradually disappeared and the population density significantly decreased along with it. The hand of bananas which had been hanging from the motorbike’s luggage rack had turned dark brown over the previous two days and became an amusement among the local people. Although the coastal roads were rocky, dry and mostly empty, the view of the endless expanse of water under the storm clouds was rather breathtaking.

The mountainous coastal roads continued for the next two or so hours. It was windy and cloudy, and the entire stretch of road ahead was essentially deserted. For a change, it was quite pleasant to go up and down the mountains on wide, winding roads, without having to fear that someone, a truck or a fellow motorcyclist, would run over me.

Although there is no reason to feel overly unsafe amidst the organised chaos of Vietnamese traffic, it is clear that the rules are not exactly followed here. Indeed, laws and regulations are often just a formality, which most people ignore or are simply unfamiliar with. For instance, Vietnamese law states that no more than two people should be at any time on a motorbike. In real life, however, it is not uncommon, especially in more rural areas, to see four or five people sitting on a motorised two-wheeler and merrily cruising around. Vietnamese law also states that one must be at least 18 years old to purchase alcohol. In reality, however, I have seen, on several occasions, a preschooler buying and delivering bottles of beer to their father or a neighbour. I am not even going to get into pedestrian crossings, which are seemingly everywhere, because it is a concept that many Vietnamese people genuinely do not even understand. Perhaps it is all a bit scary, but maybe in some other way it is a recipe for a rather pleasant anarchy.

I arrived at my next overnight stop, the fishing village of Vinh Hy, quite early, at 4:00 PM. Although Vinh Hy is historically a fishing village, in recent decades, it has increasingly become a tourist attraction. And I can see why – the charming village with its colourful boats and unique location, nestled in a small seaside valley, is really quite charming.

The village itself was small. Very small. The central artery of it was a road of about 400 meters long, which ran along the seaside and was lined with hotels and restaurants. On this short stretch of road, a minibus was moving back and forth in a rather comical way, carrying tourists in designer sweaters and expensive shoes. Although much of this whole charade seemed somewhat tacky, I could not help but like the seaside feel of the village.

Instead of using the services of a minibus, I decided to be daring and cover the 400-meter seaside road on my own two feet. I observed the restaurants and quickly realised that the prices here not only exceeded what you would normally expect in the centre of a Vietnamese major city, but perhaps even in the much more costly West. It was all a bit too much for a simple traveller.

So, after reaching the end of the road, I turned into a maze of small alleyways further from the sea. It was a decision that quickly turned out to be right as it became clearer that this is where the real residents of Vinh Hy live. There, real people’s laundry hung on clotheslines, real children ran as if there is no tomorrow, and real restaurants operated with real customers sitting on the small plastic chairs.

With belly full, I walked back through the labyrinthine streets to the hotel, with stormy winds howling, coconuts cracking on the palm trees and raindrops falling on the roof tiles.

Vinh Hy – Phan Thiet

As I usually do, I took off early in the morning to make the most of the pleasant morning temperature. The ride continued, similar to the previous day, on dry, rocky mountain roads until reaching a major highway, which continued along the sea and through an overwhelmingly dry and arid landscape, but now on a much flatter terrain.

In such a dry, almost desert-like climate, it is not easy to cultivate the land and to provide oneself as many Vietnamese people across the nation do. Looking back, perhaps this is why the roads were largely empty and the population density was so unlike of Vietnam.

In this part of the country, the salt industry stood out as an important source of income. Salt fields along with hardworking Vietnamese men and women could be seen along the road again and again, shoveling snow-white piles of salt. From time to time, small vineyards and beautiful red grapes raised their heads between the salt fields.

I soon made a stopover in one of the larger cities of the region, 📍Phan Rang. Whilst the area is mostly known for its beaches and the sand dunes in the nearby 📍Mui Ne, I came to see the 13th century 📍Po Klong Garai temple, which is a reminder of the former Champa kingdom and the Cham minority that still lives in the region.

The story of the Cham is a rather interesting one. Namely, the Cham, who were historically Hindus, are a group of people who converted over time and today are primarily the believers of Islam. It is important to note, however, that the Cham faith is still strongly influenced by both Buddhism and Hinduism, which is why Cham Islam is rather different from the one that dominates, for example, the Middle East.

The Po Klong Garai itself was beautiful and definitely worth a visit. The temple was surrounded by a large and spacious park with flowering trees, and the temple itself, with its red stone towers, sat on a small hill in the middle of it.

From Phan Rang, it took three hours to reach the next destination, the city of 📍Phan Thiet. On the way to Phan Thiet, the dry coastal road became gradually greener and the vast salt fields were slowly replaced by endless dragon fruit plantations.

Dragon fruit is a beautiful and exotic-looking fruit that grows on a cactus, and Vietnam is the absolute leader in dragon fruit production. Although the dragon fruit season had not officially begun, there were still growers who had manipulated with the fruiting season, allowing me to enjoy freshly picked fruit, which offered sweet and juicy taste sensations that could by no means be compared to the imported and often dull tasting fruit that is found in overseas grocery stores.

After arriving in Phan Thiet, I treated myself to a nice vegetarian dinner and enjoyed the evening sun setting over the city and the sea.

Phan Thiet – Vung Tau

Thursday morning started with yet another delicious breakfast. Indeed, I will probably never get sick of waking up to the smell of fresh banh mi or fragrant pho. This was followed by a quick photoshoot in the center of Phan Thiet city, before continuing the road towards 📍Vung Tau.

On the way to Vung Tau, the roadside continued to be lined with countless of dragon fruit plantations, which occasionally alternated with salt fields in the drier sections of the road. As we got closer to Saigon and South Vietnam, the previously mild climate became increasingly hot and humid. As a result, I decided to make a stop at one of many Vietnamese roadside “pubs” to quench my thirst with some local beer.

Beer (in Vietnamese: ‘bia‘) is undoubtedly a popular beverage in Vietnam. Especially when it is hot, it is common to see groups of middle-aged men sitting on small, colourful plastic chairs, sipping Saigon or Hanoi bia, or sometimes Heineken, and smoking cigarettes, which cost no more than a dollar a pack. On this occasion, I was served a 2-liter aluminium bottle with unlabelled substance, which some of the Vietnamese call ‘fresh beer’. And, oh boy, how good it tasted on that hot and sunny day.

Although travelling in Vietnam is joy and the country itself is beautiful, there are times when certain sights or places evoke strong feelings of despair and sorrow. These are the reminders that Vietnam is not a rich country, financially anyway, and behind the facades of simple, happy people can sometimes be immeasurable hardship and struggle.

After the beer break, I got back on the motorbike and soon noticed a three-wheeled vehicle slowly rumbling along the side of the road. On the back of the vehicle, there was a large sign which read:

“Please help us with some fuel money so that we can get to Saigon for eye surgery. I [the little boy] am very grateful to everyone.”

Behind the wheel of said vehicle sat a man, presumably the father, and in the back of the vehicle slept the little boy with his eyes covered in bandages. Seeing such image was heart breaking, to say the least. I drove slowly closer to the tricycle and offered my modest contribution in hopes that the little boy would one day be able to see his beautiful country much the same way as I had.

I arrived in Vung Tau, a popular resort town about 100 km from Saigon, at 2:00 PM. This gave me plenty of time to explore the beauty of the seaside city that is a popular resort town among Saigonese and international tourists alike.

Sitting on the tip of a long peninsula, one of the most defining features of the city is water. Not only has Vung Tau numerous beaches, but also ports of economic significance. Historically, Vung Tau had also been an important military center, with its air base being used not only by South Vietnamese, but also by the American and Australian forces.

In addition to water, Vung Tau is defined by mountains. Namely, the seaside coast of Vung Tau is impressively mountainous, and if you have had enough of the city’s historic center, you can always ride around the mountains and explore the numerous temples and lighthouses. That is exactly what I did before calling it a day.

Vung Tau – Saigon

The morning started with another early wake-up. I devoured my last banh mi, gulped down my last pho soup, and stuffed my face with fresh dragon fruit and guava. Stomach full, I jumped one last time on my loyal companion, the Honda Blade. There was no time to waste, because the motorbike had to be returned by no later than 11:00 AM.

To make the most of my last full day in Vietnam, I decided to avoid as much as possible the major highways. I rode down the narrow peninsula, similarly to what I had done the day before, whilst looking at the generic party banners along the roadside (“The glorious Communist Party of Vietnam lives forever!”) and the all so familiar store ads (“Condoms for sale!”), both of which I had seen many times before. After a couple of dozen kilometers, it was time to divert from the brand new highway onto a much smaller road. It was a winding path leading over a mountain range, offering a beautiful view of the East Sea behind me.

Over time, the small road became even smaller and all sorts of wonderful crops began to appear: rubber trees, cashew nuts, twisting black pepper plants, etc. It was a beautiful setting and one which made me think about life. For instance, do modern people know where the food that they eat or the products that they consume come from? In Vietnam, I was often reminded about these things because real fruits, real spices, real production of granite or pottery was always before my eyes. Cashew nuts, nearly 40% of which comes from Vietnam, were always visible in the form of beautiful yellow fruits on the roadside. Similarly, pepper vines, the plants which give us aromatic peppercorn, were growing all across the Central Highlands and the region of Vung Tau-Ba Ria.

At one point, the narrow road got even narrower and the bitumen eventually turned into gravel before becoming dusty, red soil. The road, if I may even call it so, was full of pits and tire tracks from when the ground had flooded. This continued for the next 15 kilometers and, at that time, felt like a lifetime.

After 15 or so kilometers, the road ended altogether and a vast expanse of red sand appeared before me. It was a massive construction site that extended several kilometers in each direction, with numerous excavators digging the ground and countless of trucks carrying the excess soil. Much to my surprise, I had found myself in the middle of the construction of Saigon’s new airport – Long Thanh International Airport, the most expensive infrastructure project in Vietnam’s history. It was a project, which had started almost over night and an example of ever changing Vietnam, with which Google Maps had not yet caught up with.

Covered in red dust, I finally arrived in Saigon. I returned the trusty Honda Blade and said thanks for the memorable 1100 km ride. Before checking in to the hotel, I had my last cup of tea, most likely grown in Vietnam’s Central Highlands, and admired the girls posing in traditional national dress (called ‘ao dai’) in the shade of Saigon’s Notre Dame Cathedral.

Early next morning, it was time to switch off the travel mode and depart Vietnam. Looking back on the experiences that I had over the past five or so days, I had no doubt that in my mind that Vietnam is not only a country worth a visit, but, in fact, a country one should definitely aim to visit. Whilst it may be a place that is contradictory at times – uncomfortably comfortable and unpleasantly pleasant – and it may have different rules and sometimes no rules at all, above all, it is a country that you will most certainly appreciate and remember.