Another love
The oscillation of my nomadism swings the pace back and forth, from slow to fast and back again. The previous four months in Eastern Africa had that pendulum locked in the slow pace. But I was too settled, too relaxed. It bordered on laziness. It was time to change things up.
For a very long time now, I have felt a calling from the far east. I first noticed it somewhere in Italy back in 2022. Regardless of what country I was in, things around Europe seemed similar, predictable. Türkiye and Israel were different but still easy and bordered on European.
At that point of course, life had different plans for me, and I found myself back in the US. When it was time to leave again, the Camino was the object of my desire. So back to Europe I went, happily I must add. Even parts of Morocco felt easy and European. Only my arrival to Kenya really had me out of that easiness and predictability.
All the while, in the background, a fire burned to return to Southeast Asia. One of my “rules” to this point had been to avoid long haul flights that jumped over large swaths of the Earth. I wanted to slowly and organically make my way around the world.
Once the decision to hike Te’Araroa had been made, I knew I’d be heading towards the east. That decision was made this time last year. At the time, I was in Ireland and had a whole year to make my way to New Zealand. A year always feels like an enormous amount of time. As the weeks slipped by and I moved from Ireland to Morocco, the year still seemed so vast.
While in Morocco, I confirmed with Caroline that the timing to visit her in Kenya was aligning for May. I still had many, many months afterwards to get to SEA (Southeast Asia) before New Zealand. Then Kenya stretched from a few weeks into a full three months and that led directly into Madagascar. The next thing I know its the end of August. That enormous year had evaporated into only a couple months.
I had no choice but to break my rule and make a big long haul jump. And so from Madagascar I flew to Johannesburg, South Africa to position myself for a massive Earth spanning 22 hour flight to Hà Nội, Vietnam.
It would be a brief return to a region I’d been dying to explore again for so long. But it was a return nonetheless, and I was so excited.
The minute I touched down I was in love. I was smacked across the face with a whole new world. The heat and humidity both welcoming and stifling. The chaos of the streets. The smells of food everywhere.
For the first time in a long time, this was a country I could eat my way through. Street food is everywhere and its delicious. I loved walking up to a street stall and ordering whatever they were serving, with no idea what was in it. I was never disappointed, never turned away from what was placed in front of me. It was all consumed with excitement and joy.
Noodles soups, DIY spring rolls, sandwiches and fried goodness. Chicken prepared more ways than I ever thought possible. So much so that one night I thought I’d had some really boney chicken. Turned out to be frog, and it might have been one of the best things I ate the entire time I was in Vietnam.
Every flavor imaginable, mixed and matched to glorious effect. Sweet and sour. Sweet and spicy. Spicy and savory. It was endless and relentless. Never a dull dish, not a single item to consider “meh.” Just pure deliciousness. Every. Single. Time.
By far my favorite dish was Cao Lầu. A noodle dish only possible in the UNESCO city of Hội An. The noodles are made of rice soaked in lye water, giving it a wonderful chewiness. The lye itself is leached from the ashes of the trees along the Cham islands in the area. The noodles are topped with a sweet and spicy fried pork and served with plenty of mint, coriander (cilantro), basil and other greens. Unlike other noodles dishes, cao lầu is served with only a small amount of broth, just enough to coat the noodles. It’s heaven in a bowl and now rivals Khao Soi for my “last meal” dish. I ate it every day I was in Hội An.
With “only” a month in country, I knew I wouldn’t have the time I wanted to dive too deep into the country. I leaned into my tried and true format … spend more time in less places. I spent time in Hà Nội in the north, Da Nang/Hội An in central Vietnam and Sài Gòn (Ho Chi Minh City) in the south. It was a good appetizer for a return I am already dreaming of.
Hà Nội is the historical and spiritual home of the Vietnamese people. Its vibrancy captured me immediately. History and culture set against a beautifully chaotic metropolis. Easily one of my favorite cities to wander around. Beautiful tree lined streets and hidden wonders down every alleyway.
Crossing streets is like a real life game of Frogger. All the scooters and cars don’t stop for anyone. You have to just start walking, the vehicles moving around you like a river around a stone.
I loved the mix of old and new, with the bustling city surrounding the charming old town. It was bright, colorful, full of street markets and exuded a vibrancy that captured my imagination. It definitely ranks high up my list of favorite cities in the world.
Da Nang was a complete 180 from this. It’s a beach town trying to be a big city. I dubbed it the Miami of Vietnam. I spent the first few days looking for something, anything, to pull me in. Then a missed turn had me in the thick of the city center and the love returned. The center was just as bustling, just as chaotic as Hà Nội. Toss in one of the best coffee shop I’ve found anywhere in the world and Da Nang became one of my places.
My weekend sojourn to Hội An, was something altogether different. The city of lanterns is a UNESCO heritage city. Known for its colorful buildings and even more brightly colored lanterns. I expected to find a small, quiet town set amongt the rice paddies of the surrounding river delta. What I found was a town fully consumed by the tourism grind.
Yes, the old town is beautiful and well preserved. Yes, the area is beautiful and colorful. For me, unfortunately, I couldn’t see past all the shops that occupy these beautiful old buildings. Each shop selling the same trinkets, each seeking to help relieve you of your almighty dollars.
I am fully aware that I am a tourist like everyone else. I am fully aware that I decided to travel to this town. It doesn’t stop me from feeling a bit empty about Hội An. I found a few pockets of joy, but overall my weekend here was marked by a sadness for a place that isn’t the place it once was.
This brings us to the behemoth that is Ho Chi Minh City. This is a city of intensity. The weather is intense. The traffic is intense. But there is beauty hidden behind this intensity. There is a city within a city here. One hidden down side streets and alleyways. To me, this was the true Sài Gòn. Life happens down these side streets. Business is conducted, great meals are consumed.
Getting to these streets requires reaching the next level of human frogger. I cut my teeth in Marrakech, honed my skills in Nairobi and reached expert level in Hà Nội. But Ho Chi Minh City requires you to find another level above that. Four, five, sometimes even six lanes of traffic that never stops. You can't be afraid, you can’t flinch. The only rule is it begins. To reach the peaceful nirvana you must slay the beast.
A pleasant surprise awaited me down these side streets. a never-ending plethora of amazing coffee shops. This was true of this entire country. Having just endured the barren coffee landscape of Madagascar, I hoped against hope for a few decent coffee experiences. To my gloriously surprise, this is a country with a deep love for coffee.
Typically, I have to seek out and track down the few cafes crafting amazing cups of coffee. Not so in Vietnam. Every single cafe I stepped into seemed to be serving single origins and pour overs. The beautiful part was their passion for the coffee grown in country. Vietnam is the world’s largest producer of Robusta, the misunderstood and often maligned relative of Arabica. Most of the world associates it with instant coffee and you generic Folger's type coffee. But it can and does produce a beautiful cup when given the opportunity. And here in Vietnam, it’s given that chance and a respect it deserves. They celebrate and champion it.
The sheer volume of excellent cups of coffee I consumed in my month here is staggering, easily outpacing any other country I’ve visited. I was in my own personal heaven.
Few places in my travels have captured my imagination and heart as much as Vietnam. This was a clear home run country for me. It has everything I love. Friendly people. Amazing food. Great coffee. Rich culture. Insane natural beauty.
It is chaotic and calm at the same time. The pace of life is slow and measured, amongst the hustle and bustle. There is a love and care that crosses generations.
After Italy, it’s the only other country I’ve found that I can confidently say I could live long term. And like Italy, its the only other place I know for sure I’ll return to … and soon.
One month was not nearly enough in Vietnam, but in this moment, I have bigger adventures on the horizon. But I’ll be back and I’ll dive deeper into the country. I’ll go farther afield out into the countryside. I’ll wander deeper down the alleyways. I’ll sit on tiny plastic stools and slurp Pho at 1am. And I’ll make connections with the beautiful Vietnamese people.
Until that day, I’ll dream of cao lầu, bún chả, bánh mì and robusta pour-overs while I plot my return to this most glorious country.