Vietnam – October 2025
It‘s the first time in a while that I take a nightbus together with another person. Julianne and I have been travelling together for quite a bit now and we simply trust the universe for the Google Maps location at a random road side spot given by Vexere is correct for the pick up in Hue. With a 20 minute delay (used to devour another Banh Mi) a guy runs across the street screaming my name. We follow him to the actual bus parking, place our sandals in blue plastic bags and with bare feets walk down the aisle to our BEDS. We both get a lower bunk, equipped with a cozy blanket, a pillow, multiple USB outlets and a free bottle of water. We can even connect to the bus‘ own wifi and saying goodnight to Julianne, I draw my curtains. I hardly finish the newest episode of a Japanese drama on Netflix before I doze off shortly after the bus departs for the XXX km journey to Ninh Binh. Here we are woken up by the curtains being drawn back at 3am – 1.5 hours earlier than expected! The 2 of us are the only passengers getting off at a somewhat random intersection and we retreat under a lonely umbrella providing shelter from the pouring rain. The bus leaves and we take a moment to figure out where we are.
What‘s certain, this is not our final destination. Through Julianne‘s Couchsurfing profile, we secured a stay with Ly in the small village of Làng Nộn Khê. However, the bus to get there doesn‘t leave from the main bus station till noon. So for now, the main objective is to find a place to lay down for a few hours. Luckily, both of us are seasoned overnight travellers and we quickly recognize the luxury in a sofa placed on the covered porch of a night club. Just when we make ourselves comfortable, the door opens and the last 2 guests stumble out in the street. The club owner only briefly looks at us before continuing to water the plants and closing the place. We doze off and I only wake up a few times to other backpackers passing on the way from the busses to their accommodation. When the sun is finally up and we can here the first cafés opening their doors, we say farewell to our sleeping quarters and begin the search for breakfast. After a plate of fried noodles, we go for a quick walk around the pond where locals take tourists for a cruise on their feet operated row boats. With the sightseeing done, it‘s time to head to the village.
An unsuccessful hitchhiking attempt & 45 minutes of walking in the heat later, I hail down a cab and negotiate the price for him to take us to the local bus station. Arriving there, we are asked to wait at what looks like a food stall. The bus is here, but the driver is taking his lunch break. I accept the offer for a cup of ice tea and proceed to watch a guy who seems to be somehow involved in operating our bus smoking a huuge bong. Luckily he turns out to be the conductor and not the driver. Relieved (& exhausted), I immediately fall asleep till we arrive at our destination.
Our host Ly kindly offers to pick us once the local bus drops us. She asks to meet her a little further down the street from the main intersection, since there are no traffic cameras there. After all, the 3 of us + our bags travelling on her motorbike is technically illegal. But things are a little more relaxed in the villages. Thanks to her phenomenal driving skills, we arrive at Ly‘s parents house safely in no time. The dad is playing with Ly‘s young daughter and the mom immediately gifts us the first of many pieces of pomegranate. To complete the warm welcome, our hosts then suggest us to take a nap before the evening programme starts. And so we lay down on the hardest bed I’ve ever encountered. The furniture is completely made of wood, and only lined with a thin blanked. At this point I feel like I can sleep anywhere (actually prefering a futon over the soft mattresses I slept on growing up), but I’m not surprised at the mixed reviews about the comfort of the bedroom offered to Couchsurfing guests.
After some rest for us and the end of the working day for Ly, she announces that it‘s time to head to the neighbouring village. I jump on the back of her mom‘s motorbike, while Ly takes Julianne. The mom is one of those Vietnamese drivers who never take the finger off the horn. With the sound of constant honking, we cruise through the winding alleys of the village, along rice fields and finally turn into a small farm road. Here, she drops me, gesturing to wait for Ly. The 2 girls pull up moments later and we go on a walk through the fields. While exchanging about out experiences growing up in 3 different countries, we suddenly come across a dead fish on the road. Ly tells us that there‘s a simple explanation: the fish are jumping out of the canals when water rises du to flooding. Still a little confused as to why they would do that, we continue the walk. The next wildlife encounter are the 1000 ducks that are kept by rice farmers who use them to clean up the fields after the harvest. The birds seem very eager to get to work but the season is not quite here yet. Again and again, villagers pass on motorbikes and bicycles. Many are keen to know where we are from and Ly patiently translates. 2 of the ladies riding by are actually her aunties and they quickly invite us over for fruit.
Luckily, we still have some time before Ly‘s English class starts. So we sit down in aunty‘s courtyard and snack away on pomelo and pomegranate that the ladies and Ly cut for us. When I tell you that the pomelo was the size of my head, I‘m not exagerating! Eating it by dipping the peeled slice into salt was a new experience but it tasted quite nice. A bit of small talk (once again with the help of Ly as a translator) later, we are off to the next event: the English lesson. The class is held just across the street from Ly‘s aunt on an irregular basis. Ly organizes them whenever she has time depending on work and taking care of her own family. The students are kids from surrounding villages who are between 12 and 15 years old. As it‘s to be expected from teenagers, many show up late. We do our best to engage the kids who showed up on time in English conversations, but many are too shy. At least we cover basics like explaining where we are from and some girls complimenting us with „you are very beautiful“ & „I love you“. Once again my personal highlight includes reading the worksheets, which often reflect the own country‘s values and culture. In Vietnam‘s case it seems to be important to be able to comment if someone lost wait, express how family members are related and talk about food.
Just when the kids are becoming more calm, Ly‘s mom shows up at the door. She‘s here to bring us home for dinner. With a wave we say goodbye to the kids and are back on the motorbike within seconds. Ly‘s husband is aready setting the table when we return to the now dark neighbourhood where the family lives. On huge communal plates they serve us fried tofu, boiled cabbage, roasted, salty peanuts, ginko nuts and slices of compressed pork (can‘t find a better way to describe this but it was tasty). In separate bowls, we receive our portion of white rice which is quickly refilled once empty. Julianne and I are no shy eaters, so we immediately dig in, serving ourselves the sidedishes on the rice. Munching away happily with all the choices, I‘m surprised when we‘re suddenly presented a plate of 4(!) fried eggs. But how can we say no to Ly‘s husband‘s offer. Trying to finish everything they serve us nearly sends us into a food coma. So I politely decline when Ly‘s mom hands us the 4th pomegranate of the day. This theme continues through our second day in the village when we‘re once again given lots of fruit and way too much food to finish for dinner.
So with full stomachs, we go on a digestive walk around the neighbourhood. You might think that in a sleepy Vietnamese village there is not much to see or do after dark. Well, in this one at least there is: as we stroll through the small alleys, we meet a bunch of playing dogs, teenagers hanging out with their friends, women getting a hairwash/massage at the local beauty parlor (I believe this is just an excuse to gossip with their friends), and last but not least, we get to see some street art. All over town, we see big murals depicting serene village moments. Many show a wide river, lined with lush fields and green hills in the background – very much reminding me of the landscapes we saw on the walk we took earlier with Ly. Another common element are the hard working farmers wearing traditional Vietnamese dresses. Most of the murals are captioned in large red letters. We translate some with Google Translate‘s useful camera feature. It comes back with: „A happy village before the French invasion.“ or „Building a proud new rural area – The business of the people, by the people, for the people.“ and „Nostalgic memory of the spring festival.“.
The next day we wake up early to have breakfast with Ly. She wants to take us back to the neighbouring village where she sometimes goes for a typical Bún chả meal. The rice vermicelli dipped in the tangy, savory soup are a delight and so is the grilled pork belly served on one large plate which we separate into bite-size pieces with our chopstick. Like so often in Vietnam, the dish comes with a basket of fresh herbs and lettuce which we add to our respective bowls of broth to enhance the taste. I can already tell that this will become one of my go to meals in Vietnam from now on and am very happy to hear that it‘s actually a local specialty from Hanoi – our next destination. But we‘re not quite ready to leave yet. Another thing Ly wants us to see here is the nearby local market, where her mom sometimes goes to sell all kinds of clothes and accessories. Before returning home for work, she triple checks that we are okay to walk back once we have enough of the market. We confirm three times and then stroll around the different sections of the market for a while. Apart from clothes, there are also flowers, all kinds of meat and lots of vegetables for sale. With our stomachs full (once again) we are not really in a shopping mood and head back soon.
On the way to Ly’s house, we take a glance through one or another of the open doors and gates of local homes. We soon notice that many of the people here seem to be somehow involved in handicrafts. Especially older people can be seen weaving long ropes which are then turnt into baskets and disks of all shapes. When we stop in front of one particularly large workshop area, we are greeted by an older man apparently on a break. He gestures for us to come inside and after exchanging a quick look, Julianne and I decide to follow the invitation. It quickly becomes apparent that the man and his companions do not speak English. We somehow try to explain where we‘re from, but my nationality somehow gets mixed up and from Swiss, turns into Swedish and finally Filipina… Despite the language barrier, the men keep pouring tea for us and also offer cigarettes multiple times. Then the guy who first invited us suddenly gets up and leaves. His place is soon taken by another elder who looks like he decided to stop by as spontaneously as we did. He speaks a little more English and asks if we‘re staying with Ly. I guess in this small village, she‘s the only person with connections to foreigners.
In the afternoon we take the 2 rusty family bikes for a spin. Looking at Google Maps for inspiration, we soon settle on a café as our destination. After all we need to do some research for our travel plans for the next weeks. On the way along the main road, we get another glimpse of life in the Vietnamese countryside. I spot a surprisingly large amount of people wearing the iconic pointy rice hats (often paired with colourful outfits like the ladies below). And the handicraft identity of the village can be felt on the outskirts too. Lots of shops sell different kinds of locally made goods and I even see a wood working artisan who‘s in the process of finishing one of those hard beds. Arriving at the café, another surprise waits for us in the form of a pond with koi in the backyard. We spend a couple of comfortable hours researching various possible next destinations, before getting back on the road in time to catch the sunset over the fields.
The next morning we wake up early. It’s time for us to continue the journey to Hanoi. Ly is already at work by the time we‘re done with packing, but she instructed her dad to bring us to the bus stop. He‘s less confident in his driving skills than Ly, so he first takes Julianne on the short ride and then comes back for me. Since he doesn‘t speak much English, we‘re not 100% sure what‘s happening. We simply stand around at the corner where we got off the bus on the first day and are not even quite sure from which direction the one going to Hanoi would come from, or what kind of bus we‘re looking for. A number of the large tour busses zoom by, but they don‘t seem to take on more passengers. When I become impatient and start to walk up and down the street to look at some shops to kill the time, the dad soon gestures me to come back to the place where we dropped our backpacks. I guess he doesn‘t want us to get lost. Just when I follow his request, a minibus drives up to the intersection with the conductor screaming something that sounds like „Hanoi“. We look at the dad and he gets into a conversation with the bus guy through the open door. It seems that we found our ride, so we quickly grab our backpacks and get on the vehicle that leaves as soon as we board. While the bus is pleasantly empty, my hope to get some extra sleep is soon destroyed. Unfortunately, the TV screen (& all the speakers) are working very well and nothing stops the driver from playing a very intense Cantonese action movie at full volume. What a drastic change from the peaceful village environment we just left.
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