Hello my lightbulbs!
As promised – I’m writing a little update from my recent trip to Vietnam. I visited this summer and was travelling for 15 days. I’ll be writing separately about the different places I stayed while in Vietnam – Ho Chi Minh, Con Dao, Da Nang and Hanoi. I’ll be sure to include links to some recommended spots in each post!
Pst. The hotel linked in this post is an affiliate link. If you make a purchase through these links, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you.
I had hoped to visit Vietnam while I was living in Japan – when transport was cheap and flights were easy. But, alas, nationwide lockdowns happened and plans to explore Vietnam were filed away for a later date. That later date finally came! As a teacher, I’m pretty limited to the dates that I can travel, but I’m lucky to work in a sector that differs slightly from mainstream school holidays – meaning I could get flights for a slightly-less-but-still-extortionate price! My excitement at this fact encouraged a slight hubris – causing me to book a Sunday morning flight after ending the academic year with graduation on the Friday.
Due to this quick turn around – there was some intense fear and panic. I was still buzzing from the crescendo of work stress and my Master’s submission and found it hard to switch to travel mode. This led to the worry thoughts building. I lay in bed on the night before, ruminating; what if I forget what to do? I haven’t booked all my accommodation and flights yet – what will happen? Should I research this place more before going? Ad infinitum.
By the time I got to my first flight of three, I was happy enough to sit and watch some films. And so I did; both of the Wicked films and Bugonia. Bugonia was definitely my favourite. The journey to Vietnam was pretty gruelling. I had to complete two pre-arrival forms, wait in pretty long queues in each airport, and go through immigration in Bangkok to get my bags because I was a self-transfer. Even slight delays became gut-wrenching by the second half of the trip. Plus, I’ve grown less and less keen on flying over time, so my cortisol was absolutely pumping at every take-off, landing and bit of turbulence. One of my students gave me a necklace with protective onyx – which I clung to in those dodgy moments.
Day 1
My first memorable sight of the city was in the taxi from the airport to District 3 in Ho Chi Minh City. A man, mid-forties, asleep on his scooter; head on the seat, bare feet rested on the handlebars, dozing in air thick with traffic noise and humidity. This was to be an excellent introduction to the raw, unvarnished, yet guileless pulse of the city.
And so, with one hour of sleep in about twenty-eight hours of travelling – I arrived in HemTouch House – Nguyễn Văn Mai in District 3 of Ho Chi Minh City. The staff were really friendly when I got there. They gave me fruit and water, which I inhaled after shrivelling in the heat and humidity. The hotel had a café too and I was greeted with the sound of a young guy playing guitar. One of the women on the front desk checked me in and helped with my bags. My room was on the top floor and had a balcony view and a big, comfy bed (which I collapsed onto instantly with a brew).
The arrival nap I had was sublime.
When I woke up feeling less groggy, but definitely jet-lagged, I researched some veggie places nearby. I found one a few minutes away and set out, clueless of the first Vietnamese trial I was about to face.
I excitedly walked along the street, guided by Google Maps. My face beamed as I saw the restaurant – just across the road. But I hadn’t crossed a road yet. I found a pedestrian crossing and watched as cars and a gazillion scooters whizzed by. I paced the long street like a hungry tiger in the zoo – hunting for a traffic light to no avail. Eventually hunger overcame my nerves and I asked, with extraordinarily dramatic gestures, a street-seller how to cross the road. With not a word to share in either language, she stood up, held my hand, raised her other hand to the traffic and walked. The cars slowed and the scooters weaved around us like a school of fish. When we were safely at the other side I thanked her, she smiled and headed back to her stall.
Full of gratitude and excitement, I stepped into the restaurant. The tables were low and the seats were plastic stools that I remember using a lot in Japanese onsen. Crisp and cool air-conditioning sliced through the thick outside air. There was a young man at the counter and an older woman sat at a table in the back of the restaurant peeling vegetables. Aside from me- there were two couples sat eating at the windows. I ordered a vegetable stirfry which, unfortunately, came with three prawns and a very tiny squid. I scooted them to one side and ate the veg – very much aware that the meal was likely made with fish stock and battling with the guilt that came with that awareness. I reminded myself to have my prepped phrases ready next time.
After the meal, I sought reassurance from the guy behind the counter on how to cross the road. He said – ‘Just go and go slowly’. His words repeated in my head as I hesitantly stepped out into the road – Bruce Almighty splitting his tomato soup. I got across safely and was buzzing – practically skipping past the smoky street stalls and bars, hopping over cracks in the uneven pavement. When I got back to the hotel, a feeling of overwhelm hit me. I wrote in my journal: ‘I could’ve just booked a by-the-pool holiday in Tenerife! I feel so out of my comfort zone. But! Being out of that comfort zone is always good- or at least useful’.
Day 2
I woke up a new person. The soft linen and comfy pillows made it almost impossible to get out of bed. I shuffled up to the breakfast terrace and had some water, dragonfruit and watermelon. The fruit was ridiculously fresh. I’d pre-ordered my vegan breakfast (confirmed vegan!) which was Bì Cuốn Chay – a vegetable roll. They came wrapped in plastic… which I tried to eat. When I realised this and removed the plastic – they were delicious. There was a herb inside that was to make a few appearances throughout the trip which wasn’t my bag. It was a dark leaf that had a bitter, salty taste. When the taste built up in the food it made me feel a bit sick. I think the herb was either Kinh Giới (Vietnamese Balm) or Tía Tô (Sesame Shiso). After breakfast, I went back to the room, got ready and headed off for the War Remnants Museum. The weather was stifling. I had sweat pouring out of me within two minutes of stepping outside!
The outside entrance to the War Remnants Museum was full of craft- planes, helicopters, tanks and boats. I couldn’t believe the size of some of helicopters especially. Inside there were three floors – exploring the history of French occupation and then the Vietnam War. I only knew the basics of the war before visiting, and the museum was so informative and emotive. I learned a lot from the visit.
One part of the museum that left a lasting impact was the exhibit on Agent Orange – a dioxin herbicide that was said to be used by the US to clear vegetation. This chemical continues to have a devastating biological toll on families today. The gallery dedicated to the people impacted by Agent Orange listed the health consequences of this chemical to include – cancers, infertility, birth defects and behavioural shifts. One story really that stood out to me was about a girl who was kept in a cage by her family due to her compulsion to eat dangerous materials. In their article, I Don’t Know Why the Caged Girl Screams, Christie Aschwanden points out that the Vietnamese people impacted by Agent Orange have received no direct compensation from the US or chemical manufacturers.
Further into the museum, I also saw the famous ‘Napalm Girl’ photo that won a Pulitzer Prize in 1973 – officially named ‘The Terror of War’, taken by Nick Ut. I was moved to read that the photographer rushed the nine-year-old girl in the photo, Phan Thị Kim Phúc, to a hospital in then Saigon. She survived a long recovery process and is now living in Canada and running the KIM Foundation. The KIM Foundation works to fund international organisations that offer ‘free medical, living, and educational assistance to child-victims of war, violence, and poverty’ (The KIM Foundation, 2026).
After wandering the museum, I sat in the café outside and wrote down the things that stood out to me most. I walked for a while after leaving, just thinking over the things I’d learned. Eventually, I headed to Saigon Notre Dame. It stood on a small island, surrounded by traffic. It was closed for renovations but still drew a small crowd of Vietnamese women who were praying outside.
There was a vegan place very close by, La Moi Plant-Based Restaurant, which became one of the highlights of the trip! The food was amazing – I had the vegan rib which had an amazing texture. The bone of the rib was a little chip – so creative! The staff were so accommodating too. I ordered tea after my meal and was reassured by the waitress to take my time, so I read some of my book.
After lunch I decided to walk by the river. Feeling confident I had now mastered the roads, I set out on my quest. As I got closer to the centre, the streets became busier. I eventually got to the last crossing – a six lane road full of trucks, cars and bikes, with no traffic light. My confidence withered. After a shorter dithering window than the previous night, I approached a guy who was relaxing on his motorbike with a cig. As with the street seller on day one – I pointed to the road, made a walking gesture with my fingers and then added a pantomime-level confused shrug. He looked bemused and then tapped the back of his bike.
Great! I thought. He’s going to drive me to a crossing.
I hopped on and put my hands on my thighs ready to go. He took off straight across the six lanes of traffic and I, bewildered, clung to his shoulders like a cat. He had me across the road in two seconds and was back to his cig within a minute. I walked by the river, chuckling to myself at how insane this city was. It was wildly and enticingly alive.
As it started to rain, bikes and scooters pulled up under bridges to equip their rain ponchos. As I was walking under one, an old guy on a scooter shouted me and pointed to his cap that had fallen. As I handed it back, he shouted: ‘Thank you!’ with a hilariously serious expression. I walked for a while in the rain, and then started to head back to my hotel to freshen up before dinner. On the way back – I was approached by a woman who worked for a nail salon. She walked over with a beaming smile and chimed: ‘Hey lady! Come in!’. The moment that I politely declined, her teeth were locked behind closed lips and she walked off. The immediacy of the shift tickled me and it would certainly not be the last interaction of that kind.
I arrived back at HemTouch soggy and ready for a nap. I mused in the lift up to the room, pondering the feeling of sonder. The city was so full. So busy with people in the middle of something – transporting a wheelbarrow on the back of their scooter, playing cards outside a coffee shop, carving up fish to sell. I think it was the novelty of what people were doing that highlighted the feeling to me. Of course, people are doing just the same in the UK – they’re in the middle of living their lives; but maybe because the sights are more familiar to me it doesn’t grab my attention as much. I made a note in my journal to take more notice when I got home, to keep an eye out for those little moments.
My last dinner in Ho Chi Minh was to take place in Heal & Celeb Vegan Restaurant. I consecrated my road-crossing ability on the way. Another six-lane road. I could see two white guys on the other side – eyes wide like hares caught in headlights – exactly like I had been earlier that day. My rumbly tummy nudged me forward and I crossed all six lanes – getting to the other side in one piece. I gave the guys a cheesy grin, very proud of myself, and scuttled off to the restaurant. It was a quiet place, really relaxed, with delicious food.
Day 3
That night, I struggled to sleep until 2am. Jetlag was definitely playing its part and I had decided not to bring my laptop. I checked in with loved ones back home and then did some reading before eventually falling asleep. I woke up groggy, had another delicious breakfast (my first ever banh mi!) and then headed off to the airport for the second leg of my journey. I was heading to Con Dao!
Ho Chi Minh City was a frenetic blur, misted by the fog of jet lag. It was definitely an impactful introduction to Vietnam. I got to interact with some truly earnest and kind people. I learned the Vietnamese phrase ‘tốt bụng’ which means ‘good-bellied’ and means someone who is kind-hearted and helpful and I think it’s very applicable to the people I met. The next stop on my trip was Con Dao, a tiny island known for its nature and history – I’ll write about there next with some recommendations! If you have any questions about the trip, just drop a comment!
Stay Positive.
Love,
Jess x
Further/ Linked Reading
If you’re staying in Ho Chi Minh and want to stay at HemTouch House – you can find it here [affiliate link]
I Don’t Know Why the Caged Girl Screams – Christie Aschwanden