VIETNAM
I Couldn’t Help But Wonder… What Is It About Vietnam?
I landed in Vietnam with a carry-on, a travel journal, and honestly… no real idea what I was about to experience.
Before living in Thailand I knew very little of Asian countries. Vietnam was never on my radar and man oh man it very much should have been. Vietnam is full of life, color, food, culture, kindness, and noises. The minute you step foot in this country you can’t count the number of motorcycle honks you hear.
And I couldn’t help but wonder:
Why does a place you’ve never been to sometimes feel so familiar?
Lanterns, Chaos, and a Slower Kind of Magic
In Hoi An, everything glows.
Not in an over-the-top, Instagram-filter kind of way. But in this soft, golden, slightly surreal way — like the whole city is permanently set at golden hour.
Lanterns hang above the streets. Motorbikes weave past you like it’s choreography. And somehow, no one seems stressed about it.
Meanwhile, I’m standing there trying not to get hit by a scooter, holding an iced coconut coffee like it’s emotional support.
And I couldn’t help but think:
When did I forget how to just… slow down?
Coffee ThatFeels Like a Personality Trait
Vietnamese coffee isn’t just coffee. It’s an energy booster.
At one point, I wanted three in a single day — not because I needed caffeine, but because I needed the experience. However, I knew better. After one coffee your whole body is buzzing, your head starts to slightly ache but in a good way. I do not know what they put in these coffees but if you have more than one in a day, I truly believe you could fly.
There are many types of Vietnamese coffee, egg coffee, coconut coffee, iced coffee, sweet milk coffee… every version feels like a small ritual. Like sitting down and actually being somewhere instead of rushing through it.
Back home, coffee is something I grab on the way to something else.
Here, it was the something.
And I couldn’t help but wonder:
What else in my life have I been rushing through without noticing?
The Outfit That Didn’t Exist… Until It Did
Hoi An is famous for tailoring, which basically means:
you can walk in with an idea… and walk out with a fully custom outfit 24 hours later.
Naturally, I did exactly that.
There’s something dangerously empowering about saying, “I want this,” and then watching someone bring it to life.
No overthinking. No “maybe later.” Just — done.
And standing there at my fitting, I had a thought I didn’t expect:
Why don’t I move through my real life with this kind of certainty?
The Day I Walked Through the Clouds
We visited the Golden Bridge, which — if you haven’t seen it — looks like a giant stone hand holding up a bridge in the sky.
When we got there, it was completely covered in fog.
Like… can’t-see-five-feet-in-front-of-you fog.
Objectively? Not ideal.
But somehow, it made everything feel more magical. Like we weren’t just visiting a landmark — we were inside a moment.
Cold, slightly underdressed, wearing random red jackets we panic-bought… and laughing.
And I couldn’t help but wonder:
Are the best experiences the ones that don’t go according to plan?
Christmas, But Not the Way I Knew It
Christmas in Vietnam wasn’t supposed to feel like Christmas.
No snow. No familiar traditions. No rushing around or perfectly wrapped gifts waiting under a tree.
Instead, it started with a massage.
Very on brand for me in Asia, honestly. I mean how can you pass up a $10 massage?
We booked it casually, not thinking much of it — just something relaxing to do that day. But when it ended, and we stepped outside, everything shifted.
There was a table waiting for us.
Not just anything — a full spread.
Steaming bowls of Pho, fresh fruit laid out perfectly, iced coffees sweating in the heat.
It wasn’t expected. It wasn’t advertised. It was just… there.
For us.
And then she came out — the owner — smiling in this quiet, genuine way. Like this had mattered to her.
She handed us small gifts.
A little keychain.
Tiger Balm — the Vietnamese star brand, like something locals actually use, not something made for tourists.
A postcard.
Nothing extravagant. But somehow, it felt like everything.
And I couldn’t help but wonder:
Why did this feel more like Christmas than Christmas sometimes does at home?
Because it wasn’t about obligation. Or tradition. Or doing things the “right” way.
It was just someone deciding to make a moment special.
No reason. No expectation.
Just kindness, in its simplest form.
Standing there, holding this tiny bag of gifts I didn’t see coming, I realized something I didn’t expect from this trip—
You don’t need home to feel at home.
Sometimes, it finds you anyway.
The Little Things That Stay With You
Not everything was a big, cinematic moment.
Some of my favorite memories were smaller:
Feeling like a millionaire trying to mentally convert Vietnamese đồng
Getting my nails done in the middle of a random afternoon for $5
Riding in a basket boat, slightly confused but fully committed
Sitting on a curb, watching the world go by
Nothing dramatic. Nothing planned.
Just… life, happening.
So What Did Vietnam Actually Give Me?
I went to Vietnam expecting a trip.
I left with something quieter. Harder to explain.
A feeling. A shift.
Like maybe life isn’t supposed to feel rushed and structured and perfectly figured out all the time.
Maybe it’s supposed to feel a little messy. A little spontaneous. A little unknown.
And somewhere between the lanterns, the coffee, and the chaos…
I think I remembered how to live like that again.And I couldn’t help but wonder…
What would happen if I didn’t forget this feeling when I got home?
