From the sleepless streets of Saigon to Cambodia’s quiet rivers and glowing islands, these last two weeks felt like the full spectrum of travel—chaos, calm, history, and heat. I biked through mud and rain, learned about the darkest chapters of the past, and ended up under a sky full of stars, swimming with plankton. The road keeps twisting, but each turn somehow feels exactly right.

From misty passes above the sea to lantern-lit streets and mountain towns, this week carried me from Huế to Hội An to Đà Lạt. I learned to ride a manual bike on the Hải Vân Pass, swam in hidden waterfalls, tailored suits in Hội An, and raced gravity carts in the highlands. Vietnam’s rhythm — equal parts calm and chaos — continues to pull me further south, one ride, one meal, and one story at a tim

From island sunsets on Cát Bà to limestone valleys in Ninh Bình and deep beneath the earth in Phong Nha’s vast caves, this week was about motion, mud, and moments of stillness. I kayaked through sea caves, raced go-karts by the harbor, and trekked through leech-filled jungle to sleep inside Hang Pygmy, the fourth-largest cave in the world. Tired, sore, and amazed — I’m heading south now toward Huế and Hội An, carrying a little more wonder (and a lot more mud) with me.

This week took us deep into the mountains on the Hà Giang Loop — misty passes, rain-soaked roads, and endless shots of happy water. Though a storm cut the trip short, the landscapes and people left a lasting mark. Back in Hanoi, I found comfort in familiar chaos and shared street-side meals before heading east to Hạ Long Bay, where another typhoon brought a rare calm and time to reflect before the journey continues south.

Vietnam began in the whirlwind streets of Hanoi — dodging scooters, tasting salt coffee, and sharing meals on tiny plastic stools. A sleeper bus north brought us to Sapa, where rice terraces, family dinners, and late-night music in the mountains revealed a slower, more soulful side of the country. Next stop: the legendary Ha Giang Loop.