Can you watch Netflix? Lessons from my Chiang Mai “Monk Chat” experience

It’s what the people want to know, right?

Whether it was a war, invasion, or act of terror, ideological conflicts dominated the news agenda when I was in school. Keen to understand more, I took Religious Studies to A level, studying the world’s major faiths in relative depth.

At their core, they share similar moral frameworks. But between the lack of wars, focus on selflessness and preservation of animal life, Buddhism was the easiest one to actively “lean into” (and – critically – didn’t involve worshipping some bloke).

So when I visited Thailand earlier this year to experience life as a digital nomad, I was excited to hear that you can book time to speak to monks there, as part of a nationwide scheme called “Monk Chat“.

How prevalent is Buddhism in Thailand?

With a temple around every corner, it’s not hard to see that Buddhism is still the dominant religion in Thailand. The country is home to around 200,000 monks and 85,000 novices at most times of the year, according to Buddhanet.

Strikingly for me, is the fact that most Thai men ordain at least once in their lives. They’ll typically join a wat (monastery) before starting work or university – sometimes even returning mid way through life – and can leave, or rejoin, whenever they want. Like spiritual rehab.

If you’re interested in why (and perhaps what the effect of this is) take a look at this article.

The “Monk Chat” scheme specifically, allows people to learn how monastic life shapes Thai society, in exchange for a bit of English language practice. Chiang Mai – in the North – is considered the centre of the movement, so I booked a half-day meditation retreat at Wat Suan Dok, in the centre of the old town, when I visited last February.

Introduction to Buddhism

After a quick cup of tea, our teacher, the head monk, began by outlining the basic history and core principles of Buddhism.

A lot of people assume Buddhists worship Buddha, but that is not true. They do not worship a creator God or idol – not even the Buddha himself, although his journey toward enlightenment, and teaching of Nirvana, is central to the philosophy.

Instead, Buddhism is better understood as a practice rather than a belief-based religion. “Train against doing bad; train to do good; and train to purify the mind,” he wrote on the whiteboard, summarising its ethical framework. Simple, right?

It’s all about balance

As to how much of this the average Thai person follows, I’m not sure. But it’s widely understood that 90% of the population define themselves as Buddhist, and pay close attention to the main principles.

Meditation specifically, our teacher explained, is a tool for observing and regulating emotional responses, helping practitioners return to these principles rather than act against them in moments of difficulty.

We then had a go at this ourselves – sitting for no less than 40 minutes – as he guided us through a seated meditation. I’ve always found meditation easier in a group, and after an emotionally charged first ten days of travel, the enforced stillness provided a rare opportunity to switch off.

Question time

Following this introduction, there was a group Q&A where you’re allowed to speak to the junior monks. I’ve been looking forward to this the most because I was genuinely interested in their way of life.

Can you watch Netflix? Can you discuss the news? Play video games in your spare time? We found ourselves asking.

I really wanted to understand what their habitual lives are like – especially at a novice level – as well as the role that monks play in the community. If I compare to the UK, for example, the Church is very active, and runs sort of like a charity / business. And who could forget the Benedictine’s at Buckfast Abbey? They’re making booze!

We didn’t get far with these questions. Our hosts were happy to talk about the importance of meditation but overall, I felt there was a slightly missed opportunity to understand the social contribution that monks make in the modern age.

But I guess it’s not their job to explain some of this, and we wanted to be respectful. There was also a language barrier, which is fair and understandable.

What about the women?

We did make headway on the topic of female monks (nuns), which felt significant, because they are not officially recognised by the state.

According to a 2019 article I read in Reuters, though, more Thai Buddhist women are seeking to become full-fledged “bhikkunis”, or female monks, by getting ordained overseas, usually in Sri Lanka or India.

Our companion clearly viewed these women as legitimate, but explained that nuns are required to follow 311 rules, compared with 227 for their male counterparts. This distinction comes from the Vinaya Pitaka – specifically the Pāṭimokkha – which sets out the monastic code of conduct. Like the men, women shave their heads and eyebrows upon ordination.

This interview on the topic expands on why this is, and how this landscape is shifting. I’ve also added some videos from the sessions on my instagram (@womanmeetsw0rld).

Is it worth attending?

If you’re curious to understand Buddhism and meditation at a surface level, I’d absolutely recommend trying Monk Chat whilst in Chiang Mai.

I’m interested in religious teachings and philosophies without any real intention to practise, so this half-day experience suited me well – though more in-depth meditation retreats are available for those looking to go deeper.

It’s a donation-based scheme offered at numerous temples across Thailand, and I imagine each one feels slightly different: some more open and modern, others more structured and traditional.

It was a genuinely enjoyable thing to do in Chiang Mai, and even if the session felt a little too focused on meditation for me personally, I found myself reflecting deeply on the topics covered afterwards.

It’s not a bad way to spend a day off from work, is it?

Trapped by traffic in Nimman, Chiang Mai

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  • What impact are nomad communities having in places like Chiang Mai?

    After my week of work in Chiang Mai, I wonder – is a Bali-esque boom and bust on the horizon?

    It’s no secret that Thailand is popular with digital nomads. Interest in the Destination Thailand Visa (DTV) underscores this appeal – offering a five-year, multiple-entry visa, it surpassed 35,000 applicants when it launched last year (2025). Aimed at remote workers and location-independent professionals, the DTV offers an affordable and flexible long-term stay, making it a central pillar of Thailand’s strategy to boost tourism and strengthen its economy.

    With great prices, food, weather, and landscape, Thailand does appear to have it all. But having worked from several international “nomad” hotspots in the last year, I have found myself becoming less interested in what I can get out of the places I visit, and more concerned with the impact I’m having there.

    Definitions of digital nomads have changed, after all. The 2010 “stereotype” was that of a “joyful millennial working from a laptop on a beach” (Hart, 2015; Spinks, 2015). A handful of people were doing it, many of whom were bloggers, making it pretty harmless.

    Now, an era of flexible working, long-term visas, and steep rents in places like Sydney and London mean people are choosing to work remotely abroad for the long haul, (coined as “slowmadism”).

    Western incomes stretch further abroad, and that money benefits local economies. But academics worry there could be broader ramifications for destinations in the Global South already experiencing forms of transnational gentrification, as a result of remote workers.

    Chiang Mai’s appeal might also be its downfall

    Chiang Mai, a city in the northern mountains of Thailand, has attracted thousands of digital nomads in recent years. The effects of this migration are already being felt, with this case study suggesting the long-term nomad presence is reshaping neighbourhoods, increasing demand for foreign-facing businesses, and driving up rents – factors which affect both visitors and locals.

    I observed some of this myself when I visited in February 2025. There’s still a ton of local food spots, of course, but it seemed that many of the cafés, services, juice bars, and co-working spaces had been created for foreigners (or those with laptops).

    My lovely host in Chiang Mai

    Fon, a restaurant owner, confirmed that even local food stops have “increased their prices by 5–10 Baht” since the 2020 pandemic. Whilst the minimum wage has increased slightly too, it is unclear whether it’s enough, or what the future repercussions could be over time.

    What about integration? Of the nomads I met in Chiang Mai, some worked in tourism or as teachers, and others were learning Thai. Billy, an American who moved to Chiang Mai two years ago, loves his life here as a teacher. He said that despite the number of expats from Myanmar, China, and Western countries, local people still strongly embrace their mai pen rai – a “no worries” attitude – and hold tightly to their Lanna cultural identity. On the trips he’s been on, there’s just as many Thai locals as there are nomads and expats, he says.

    Whilst that is reassuring, having spoken to a lot of nomads working from businesses based outside Thailand, most treated the city as a satellite office, and were there to enjoy the comfort and low costs rather than integrate into the fabric of the place. I can’t help but wonder how sustainable that is – especially given that most nomads leave in the early part of each year during “burning season” – which must affect rental competition, business, and the vibe.

    Meals cost £1-3

    Based on my chats with people there, part of Chiang Mai’s appeal – compared to say, the Thai islands – is that it feels more “authentic,” or at least less mediated by mass tourism. Fon is from Prachinburi, and moved here five years ago. “People from here have a strong sense of culture, pride, and local traditions,” she said. This is in part due to the highly esteemed university and active student culture.

    Evening chants at Doi Suthep are popular

    As more people move here to work, however – which is likely, in the wake of this visa – I suspect local businesses and authorities will keep shaping things to meet foreign interests, expectations and spending habits.

    After all, nomads are not tourists in the traditional sense. They need a more fixed base, comfort, friends, places to live, reliable internet access, and familiar home comforts. I went for dinner with people from a newly launched co-living residence, for example – something that’s becoming more common, and speaks to the desire for permanence.

    Another challenge that comes with growing numbers of long-term visitors, is waste management. Chiang Mai already feels stretched in terms of infrastructure, and more people inevitably means more rubbish. Bali, for example, is grappling with a well-documented waste crisis, and while I wasn’t able to investigate in depth here, this blog provides some interesting context about recycling and waste handling in Thailand.

    I tried hard to minimise my footprint by carrying a Grayl water filter bottle and a foldable dog bowl for takeaway food, but the broader issue is harder to tackle. How the city will cope with more residents and their impact on waste, water, and energy systems remains to be seen. “Waste and water management have not kept up with growth,” said Fon.

    Is it overcrowded already?

    In terms of capacity – like I said, it already feels quite busy, and judging by comments on Reddit forums from long-term nomads, that seems to be the case. I found myself standing at traffic lights for around ten minutes in Nimman, trying to cross the road, for instance.

    All the Grab drivers wore masks to protect themselves from the terrible air quality, which will surely worsen as traffic increases. Electricity wires hung about precariously, which had me wondering how much additional strain the desire for faster internet was putting on infrastructure.

    According to Fon, my observations were valid. “The cost of utilities has risen dramatically,” she said. “The condition of the roads is abysmal, and there’s no real public transportation despite the demand. There are more vehicles on the roads each year as a result.”

    A lot Chiang Mai is undeniably charming, and you can tell why people like it here. The Old Town is beautiful, a square of ancient walls, temples, lanterns, and slow, warm evenings. I really enjoyed my first few days staying just south of it, near Wua Lai Walking Street Market, a quieter part of town that still felt full of character.

    There are some beautiful hikes nearby, and lots of stunning wats to explore – I even spent one day speaking to monks when I visited (you can read my blog about this here).

    Overall though, I seemed to leave Chiang Mai with more questions than answers. It will be interesting to see how it changes over the next decade, and how the Thai government will manage the steady influx of people (or indeed, decline, if that happens). Is another Bali boom and bust on the horizon?

    Dinner with a gang of travellers I befriended

    Exploring the local temples

  • Dodging lizards in Thonburi – My first 24 hours as a nomad in Asia

    Having swapped life in London to work remotely abroad, what did the Thai capital have in store for me?

    At the end of 2024, I quit my corporate job in London after eight years in the capital, and started life as a digital nomad in Asia.

    It was thus that I found myself, two flights and 15 hours later, at Suvarnabhumi airport, Bangkok – freshly spray tanned, and braced for change.

    After having successfully withdrawn baht, updated my family, filled my water bottle and downloaded my e-sim, I had a full two to three days to explore the city before moving North to the town Chiang Mai, a well known nomad hot spot.

    I was staying in Asoke, right in the centre of the bustling mecca of Bangkok. It’s seriously busy – think wide streets laden with traffic – but a good location from which to see the main sights.

    I got lost a few times, but for once there was no tube to catch, no meeting or engagement to get to. Nor was I a backpacker on a shoestring budget or timeline. Why am I rushing to my hotel? I thought with a thrill. I have time to figure it out.

    As I traipsed through the streets with my rucsack, the heat started to wear a little, however. I was grateful that I’d limited myself to hand luggage only, packing just a few clothes and my refurbished MacBook Air – about the tiniest laptop ever made.

    When I arrived at the lovely Samala hotel – which was later damaged in an earthquake – I cooled off with a little visit to the pool, a Singha (Thai Beer), and after a short nap, contemplated what to do next.

    Snacks at Ruam Sab market

    First up, food of course. The benefit of being in the business district of Bangkok is that you’re never far from a decent market.

    I’d spotted Ruam Sab market on my way to the hotel, so journeyed back with my pockets jangling.

    Having done a bit of prep for my time abroad (thank you RetiredWorking4U), I knew this food court was where the local office workers came for lunch. As such, it was best to arrive early – especially as I wanted to look about and soak it all in.

    Vegetarians – look out for the yellow Je flag!

    Whilst I was seriously tempted by the deep fried bananas, I eventually settled for some Morning Glory (water spinach) with rice, and some kind of broth, lathered with a mix of chillies, soy and fish sauce, which is typical all over Thailand.

    Meat is eaten in the country, but veggie stalls sometimes have a yellow Je flag, which was a big help, as I don’t eat meat that often.

    Stomach full, I was ready to get out and explore.

    Touring Thonburi

    Nothing beats a tour for getting your bearings, and I’d already found a business online called Hidden Bangkok Tours led by a local chap born in the area.

    He runs boat trips in Thonburi, the quieter, more traditional part of Bangkok on the western side of the Chao Phraya River – the “city behind the Pagoda”, he said in one YouTube video.

    There’s no doubt social media can kill your brain, but one of the lovely takeaways is finding unusual activities you might not typically consider, like this one.

    Desperate to see some lizards, off I popped to Thonburi. As we journeyed through the khlong (canal) in our brightly coloured tail boat – right in the shadow of the giant golden Buddha, in fact – we had what I felt to me like a more authentic insight into the city.

    Before I arrived in Bangkok, all I could picture in my head was roads, wires, and hotels – which is accurate – but I was surprised to learn that it’s also lined with waterways. In fact, it’s at huge risk of climate change due to rising sea levels from the low-lying Chao Phraya delta.

    Until the late 19th century, the rivers served as the primary means of transportation for people and goods, earning it the nickname of “the Venice of the East”. Venice – in Thailand! Every day’s a school day.

    Our guide explained how the old wooden houses lining the canal were what most local Thais lived in, with many families still working directly on the river (although some were now Airbnbs).

    We met a couple of them, including a lady who’d sold fish on the river her whole life and, if I remember correctly, had funded her children’s university education with her earnings. I’m not sure how true this is, but either way, it’s a cool story.

    Shots from Thonburi, a riverside community located on the western banks of the Chao Phraya River

    Being over a century old, many of the properties – which were built on stilts – were beginning to fall into the river. Rebuilding requires official permission, which makes it difficult for residents to maintain them, although I didn’t get to the bottom of why such permission was difficult to secure, sadly.

    We then stopped for coffee at an adorable, centuries old wooden house called Baan Silapin, the “Artists’ Village”. It appeared that this was where the young Thai’s hung out, and I spotted a couple on a date feeding catfish by the water – as you do.

    All the colours at Baan Silapin “Artists’ Village”

    Others – a mix of locals and tourists – were painting in the cafes, observing the local art, picking up trinkets, and generally slowing down. It wasn’t overcrowded, and felt a bit hipster – like a slower, hotter, Hackney Wick. Without the beanies (thankfully).

    After the intensity of Asoke, this was a refreshing change of pace – a chance to see a side of Bangkok that I suspect often gets missed.

    Do make time for a visit here if you need to unwind from the city.

    There’s no need to get a tour, but it certainly adds context and colour. Importantly, I learned how to say Bangkok in Thai – possibly the longest word ever said – check it out:

    Trying my first Khao Soi

    After my cultural baptism, what else, but more food? Bloggers advised I try Pad Krapao or Khao Soi, a noodle soup in a curry broth, topped with crispy fried noodles. I was keen to work out if I could find vegetarian versions, so later caught the bus down to the thriving Vadhana District in central Bangkok.

    Having been kindly directed to the right stop by a group of local ladies who’d teamed up to ensure I didn’t get lost, I found – by chance – a little place called Zong Peep, serving tofu Khao Soi. I promptly tucked into a huge bowl and a coke for the price of about £3. It was a delicious mix of salt and spice.

    Khao Soi is one of the best loved dishes in Thailand

    Belly full once again, I was pretty shattered and ready to hit the sheets. Do you know the way to Samala? I asked a security guard at a nearby hotel. My mate will take you, he said, shouting over to a guy on a moped.

    Better not add this to my stories, I thought, knowing my Mum was watching. But no time to dwell. I pulled the helmet on and off we went, slithering down Sukhumvit in a game of real-life Mario Kart.

    Back at the hotel I dived under the covers and set my alarm for an early start. Contrary to my parents’ expectations, I hadn’t been killed, kidnapped or poisoned – so all in all, a great first day.

    My first moped ride of the trip

  • How a day with Australia’s wildlife reminded me what it means to belong

    As my trip draws to a close, my thoughts turn towards home.

    “Oh my God. I want one!”

    I was in Australia, arm in arm with my friend (and now expat) Becca.

    Becca, like a lot of Londoners, committed the ultimate friend betrayal by moving to Australia in 2023. 

    Having finally forgiven her, we now found ourselves cooing over koalas at Moonlit Sanctuary, an award-winning wildlife park located 50 minutes southeast of Melbourne’s CB, following a fun filled weekend in Sydney’s Blue Mountains.

    A long awaited trip

    I’d always wanted to visit Australia. Every single member of my family had either lived or travelled here, and as an 18-year-old I’d mentally planned an entire gap year on the other side of the world, that I was too scared and too broke to execute it.

    Just as the desperate migrants romanticised California in The Grapes of Wrath, Australia seems to have a kind of “heaven on earth” appeal for us intrepid Europeans. And more than a decade later, it felt thrilling to be standing on Ozzy soil, ready to wrap up a three-month stint as a digital nomad in Asia.

    But where were the crocs?

    Perhaps I’d gone a bit feral from all those weird nights in hostels, but Sydney itself hadn’t thrilled me – and when we reunited in Melbourne after a short hiatus, I was itching to get back into nature.

    Half expecting to see crocs, snakes and spiders the minute I stepped off the plane, it was a little disenchanting to be surrounded by buses and McDonald’s; so, we decided to book a day trip South to see some of the country’s most dangerous animals – koala bears, wallabies and penguins.

    Moonlit Sanctuary is an award-winning wildlife park in Melbourne

    After several fun, but somewhat exhausting, months on the road as a digital nomad, I was ready for a cuddle; and luckily our first stop was Moonlit Sanctuary, a wildlife conservation park in Victoria focused on endangered native species breeding, education, and immersive visitor experiences.

    Sadly, these adorable teddy-like creatures are not for handling, but looking up at the canopies of the sanctuary, it felt incredibly special to see koala bears in the flesh, even if they were simply napping.

    After much pst psttting, and a short interaction with a wallaby (sort of like a tiny kangaroo), we then drove further South toward “The Nobbies”.

    I wasn’t sure what to expect at the other end, and was surprised to learn that this is in fact a dramatic, and very beautiful clifftop area on Phillip Island – not dissimilar to Cornwall, I might add.

    Leave it to the Aussies to call an area of outstanding natural beauty “the Nobbies”

    It’s a great place to catch sea life apparently, and whilst we didn’t spoke any whales or seals, we had something special waiting for us down at the beach at dusk – the Penguin Parade.

    Settling down for the Penguin Parade

    This is a precious natural phenomenon where hundreds of tiny little penguins spend the day feeding at sea before returning to shore at sunset – all at the same time.

    We passed an hour or two on the beach with our hot chocolates, watching the waves and wondering when the first penguins would appear.

    It was a bitter evening, and as our steaming drinks began to cool, I wondered if the penguins had lost their way back.

    But lo! Just as the light faded – a couple of tiny heads popped up over the water. Then a dozen, then a hundred. The birds, it turned out, were more organised than Becca and I had ever been in our lives. They had been waiting for darkness so that they could travel in safety.

    Once on shore, the tiny creatures waited for their friends to arrive – preferring to travel in big groups – before panic-waddling up the beach to their burrows. Above their head, birds of prey circulated, observing the scene and braced to pounce on stragglers.

    Luckily for us, there were no fatalities and all the penguins successfully scurried over the sand, before disappearing into the dunes, safe at home for another night.

    Wherever you go, there you are

    It was an adorable scene – somewhat similar to seeing the lollipop lady gather the children before crossing the road. And after three months of travel, watching the little birds shuffle back to a place of safety and familiarity felt particularly moving.

    I didn’t know how this nomad experiment would go, or for how long I’d be able to sustain life on the road, having never backpacked this long alone before. But I had noticed by this point that I was struggling to stay present, due to anxieties about the future.

    I knew by now that I wanted to remain “nomadic” – but what that looked like in practice, I wasn’t sure. Thoughts were turning toward commitments at home; decisions about where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do could no longer be put off; and after weeks of hostels, airports and constantly being on the move, even daily decision making was difficult.

    I believe this is a scenario that many people on the road find themselves in. On my route, I met lots of people who seemed to be avoiding problems they were having at home, processing something, or just generally lost and dissatisfied with life.

    I don’t know if travelling is the right way to deal with those things or not. But as they say “wherever you go, there you are”. At some point you’ll have to confront internal or external challenges, or at least seek support from someone you know – whether that’s a local support network, or someone from home.

    Having Becca there to take some of the weight off my shoulders reminded me that even the most independent travellers need help sometimes.

    And, like the penguins making their way back to shore at dusk, I felt ready to call time on my adventure and head home too – but not before seeing Singapore.

    *If you want to visit Philip Island, can either drive over yourself or take a full-day trip, which cost us around £70 including return travel from Melbourne. We also had a lovely guide who was funny, knowledgeable and genuinely passionate about the animals, which made the experience even better.*

  • Cooling off in Copenhagen

    Is this the best city break in Europe?

    Following three months visiting Asia, Bali and Australia in early 2025, I was craving less stimulation and more structure for my next trip from the UK. After eight years as a Londoner, there comes a point where you want to trade a backpack for a trench coat and boots, and with a friends’ wedding in Sweden approaching in May, it made sense for us to visit Copenhagen first.

    I’d been curious about the Danish capital for some time. My parents spent their honeymoon there in the 80s and nearly always have Scandi drama on the go. I also recall having nightmares from a made-for-TV version of The Little Mermaid which, true to Hans Christian Andersen’s style, is far darker than Disney would suggest. 

    Luckily this trauma was corrected during my visit, and I left thinking Copenhagen might be one of my favourite city breaks so far. Maybe that was because, after the sensory sprawl of the far east, it felt so refreshingly calm and considered, with its wide pavements, seamless cycle lanes, and reliable public transport. Like a lot of Scandinavia, everything seems designed – not in a showy way, but in a cool, collected way.

    Keep reading for food highlights, what to do, and the best day trips from the city.

    What to eat in Copenhagen

    Copenhagen is a bit of a foodie dream – which sort of surprised me – so prepare to go with an empty belly and a ready palate. Here’s a suggestion for you to spend your day eating around the city: 

    First – bakery breakfast 

    Skip the hotel buffet and head to Rug or Hart Bakery for some beautifully curated baked goods. They’re quite upmarket places with spaces to sit down and enjoy your loot. Bring a friend so you can split a bunch of them between you (or pig out alone!) 

    Next – Smørrebrød and beers for lunch

    Smørrebrød is a classic Danish open sandwich – sort of like oversized tapas. Imagine a base of tangy rye bread, topped with smoked fish and pickled veg. We stopped on Gammel Strand, but you can find them all over the city. They’re delicious but not cheap, so order a selection and split them between you. Wash down with a beer (Carlsberg or Mikkeller). I can also recommend Bird cocktail bar in the city centre for a classier beverage.

    Then – snacks at Broens Street Food

    Sitting opposite the Inderhavnsbroen bridge, this is another cool food market from whence to snack, but you could also have lunch or dinner here. It is located on the Greenlandic Trade Square where the traders from Greenland, Iceland, the Faroe Islands and Denmark used to arrive after long journeys across the oceans. It’s a lovely spot from which to look over the water. Opening back up in March, it even offers yoga, social dining and other events to enjoy.

    Finally – dinner and drinks at Reffen Street Food Market

    Proclaiming itself as the “largest street food market in Northern Europe”, this is another buzzing food market on the waterfront, hosting food stalls from around the world. For Londoners, it has a bit of a Hackney Wick vibe, complete with beautiful street art. Like Broens, it opens again in March and offers regular events that I’m always ogling on Instagram. A perfect way to see the sunset.

    What to Do in Copenhagen

    Most guides will suggest visiting Copenhagen for four days, which feels reasonable to me, although I stayed longer and felt there was plenty to see.

    Here’s fun activities I’d recommend adding to your trip itinerary.

    Take photos at Nyhavn

    Spend some time walking about the iconic 17th-century waterfront, canal and entertainment district. Despite being a little touristy and expensive, it’s a great spot for photos. Just look at those gorgeous buildings.

    Learn about hygge at the Happiness Museum

    The Danes are pretty well known for their commitment to hygge – but what does that actually mean? Well you can learn all about it at The Happiness Museum, curated by Denmark’s Happiness Research Institute. Lots of fascinating takeaways from this place about how different cultures measure happiness and I found myself reflecting deeply afterwards. All millennials (or anyone feeling slightly lost in life) should come here!

    Marvel at chairs at the Design Museum

    I cut my teeth doing design PR, so I couldn’t miss this and it totally delivered. Who knew so much thought went into the development of a chair? If you get satisfaction from efficiency and beautiful problem-solving, you’ll love spending a couple of hours at the Design Museum. 

    Shake off the chill with a cycle about the city

    Probably the best way to see Copenhagen – especially between May and September. Use the app Donkey Republic to hire bikes.

    Do a walking Tour

    A great way to understand the city’s history. Every tour is different, but ours covered the royal family and Denmark’s WWII experience. If you’re not booking via your hostel or hotel, try Get your Guide or Guru Walks.

    Visit the Little Mermaid statue

    Emphasis on “little”. She’s teeny but powerful – just look at her Disney empire! The statue is an ode to one of Denmark’s most famous writers, Hans Christian Anderson and sits in edge of the Langelinie promenade, making an excuse for a nice walk.

    Ride around Tivoli Gardens

    Continuing the Disney link – I recently discovered during this podcast by The Rest is History, that Tivoli gardens amusement park was Walt Disney’s original inspiration for the disney parks. Feels a bit random having a theme park bang in the centre of a city but if you fancy an adrenalin rush, it’s typically open from March.

    Art appreciation at Freetown Christiania

    Describing itself as an “intentional community”, Freetown Christiania is a separate community in Copenhagen with a history dating back to the 1970s. It has its own laws, flag and way of life. Visitors can enjoy the cafes, art, and market, and it seems there’s often live music and other arty things going on. It’s definitely worth seeing for a different side of the city.

    Cross the Bridge to Malmö or Lund

    Why not cross the bridge from The Bridge and head into Sweden?

    Copenhagen sits right on the border, and it’s just a short train ride across the Øresund Bridge into Malmö in Sweden. From there, Lund is around an hour away.

    Lund – home of the Oatly factory – is a charming university town and worth stopping in for a night or two to sample the café culture and wander around the historic university buildings. I spent a lovely two days checking out the vintage shops and cafe hopping here. Some favourites included Broder Jakobs and Too Motch.

    I didn’t particularly love Malmö, but the Disgusting Food Museum is admittedly a fun (if slightly grim) stop if you’re in the area.

    A place of quality not quantity  

    Copenhagen isn’t the cheapest city break but if you want somewhere that combines good food, thoughtful design and just enough culture to feel smug about it afterwards, the Danish capital is hard to beat. Between the pastries, museums, harbour swims and slightly intimidatingly stylish locals, it’s a city that feels both relaxed and quietly inspiring. I went with friends, but also had some days alone, and found it very well suited to solo travelling (for more solo city break inspo, read my Porto blog). If you’re into looking like you belong on a design mood board, visit between May and September when the city really comes alive. I’d be intrigued to see what it’s like in winter – maybe another time! 

  • Why nomads shouldn’t sleep on Siem Reap

    History meets modernity in this vibrant Cambodian city.

    I didn’t really know what to expect from Siem Reap when I booked a flight there in early March. Obviously I’d heard of Angkor Wat, but the city itself didn’t seem to be talked about much in digital nomad circles online.

    At this point, I had been travelling around Southeast Asia as a freelance remote worker for four weeks. Having just wasted five days throwing up in Vang Vieng in Laos (don’t go there), I was keen to find somewhere I could properly base myself for a bit, get some work done, and have at least one significant cultural experience.

    I ended up spending a week in Siem Reap, working lightly from abroad, pampering myself, sampling the nightlife and visiting the historic sites. I have to say I was really pleasantly surprised by it and could have stayed longer – here’s why.

    A vibrant urban jungle

    First of all, it feels nothing like Bangkok or Hanoi, both of which I found a little overstimulating.

    Unlike Bangkok (where I started), the city is not full of high-rise buildings, and there seems to be a lot more space to roam around than there is in Hanoi – at least in the old French Quarter (in the centre). That’s partly due to a heritage rule that limits building heights, giving the city a less imposing, more town-like feel. In fact, it reminded me of a larger Luang Prabang (Laos).

    It’s also incredibly colourful. The first thing I did after leaving the airport was take an electric tuk-tuk into the city centre, about half an hour away. As we got closer, it seemed I was shaded by trees much of the time.

    The buildings are a mix of colonial-era French and traditional Khmer styles, as opposed to the more brutalist vibe of Phnom Penh, which is a constant reminder of Cambodia’s dark past. Many exteriors are covered in plants and foliage, giving the city a calm, verdant feel – something like an urban jungle, which I found quite soothing.

    Is there a nomad “scene”?

    There is definitely a remote-working community here, but it’s not massive. I overheard young English and European speakers chatting about their lives in cafes, and know people who are based there permanently as teachers.

    As a communications consultant, my work mostly consists of sending emails, writing articles, and taking video calls, so I cannot speak to wifi speeds in much depth – I defer to reddit forums for that kind of information.

    But a lot of the cafes were well set up for laptops, with decent WiFi, air conditioning, and private rooms to take calls, which is another giveaway.

    Some of my favourite spots to “plug in” in Siem Reap included:

    Footprint Cafe – feels like sitting in a small library. It has links to the University of Cambridge in the UK, and seemed like a good place to meet people.

    New Leaf Eatery – excellent vegan food, with noticeboards full of flyers for local events and clubs. The restaurant supports youth development in Siem Reap.

    Common Grounds – situated on one of the prettiest streets in the city, I came here twice for breakfast and the air conditioning. All profits support humanitarian and development work in Cambodia.

    Biolab Coffee – designed with nomads in mind, it also functions as a coworking space and is well set up for meetings.

    A conscious community

    Cambodia has a very painful recent past, which was one of the reasons I was keen to visit. During the late 20th century, the country suffered years of civil war, partly shaped by the wider conflict in neighbouring Vietnam.

    This was followed by the tyranny of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, a brutally cruel regime that resulted in the deaths of around a third of Cambodia’s population. Because Pot targeted people he considered to be “intellectual”, after its collapse in 1979, the country faced a massive shortage of teachers and professionals. Illiteracy rates climbed to nearly 40%, and the education system had to be rebuilt from scratch.

    That history still feels present, and one noticeable outcome is how many businesses focus on reinvesting money and support back into the local community, as you’ll see from my descriptions about the cafes above.

    I talked a little in my Chiang Mai blog about the ethics of being a nomad, and the experience of being somewhere, whilst not totally immersed. The people of Siem Reap call you to do the opposite, and I really liked that about it.

    Which Wat is Wat?

    Another point of appeal for Siem Reap is that is is soaked in modern and ancient history – being home to the city of Angkor – so there’s quite a bit to get your teeth into on your days off.

    Built in the twelfth century, Angkor was the centre of the Khmer Empire, a powerful kingdom that once dominated much of Southeast Asia. At its peak, it was home to around a million people, making it the largest pre-industrial city known to exist.

    As the Khmer empire dissolved, Angkor became a ruin. Whilst it was known to the local community, it wasn’t until around 200 years ago that archeologists got their hands on it, and made it a major tourist attraction. It remains the largest religious (Hindu/Buddhist) monument in the world, at three times the size of the Vatican City, and a lot of it is still in tact.

    One or two days in Angkor?

    Because there’s so much to see, visitors can buy either a one-day ticket ($37), a three-day ticket ($62) or a seven-day ticket ($72).

    I’d heard sunrise or sunset were the best times to go, so on my first day, I set an alarm for 3am and joined a Get Your Guide tour. The tour cost around £10, including transport – which felt like a bargain.

    By 5am, I was standing in front of the iconic towers of Angkor Wat with about 20 thousand other tourists trying to get a photo of the sun rising over the “pine cones”. As it turns out, these are actually lotus buds, and represent purity, divinity, and fertility. Lovely!

    As someone with no background on the place, I was really amazed by the scale of Ankor, and the level of preservation, which is why so many people advise getting the three day pass (which I opted for). But I will go out on a limb and say that one day was enough for me.

    This is the very ancient past we’re talking about, and there’s only so much your brain can take in when you’re tired and hot. Our guide wasn’t brilliant at bringing it to life either – much unlike our guide in Phom Pehn (which I visited after Siem Reap), who did an incredible job at illustrating the horror of the killing fields and S21.

    I had learned by this point in my trip to just take in what I could manage, and then read or listen to something later in order to get the full picture. When I went back at sunset a couple of days later, I booked a tuk-tuk to take me around the key buildings I hadn’t yet seen (costing around £15 for the day) and it was far less busy. more relaxing and I was able to google things on the way.

    If you’re taking a tour, bring plenty of water. It gets hot very quickly!

    Visiting Kampong Phluk village on Tonlé Sap lake

    Another cool thing to do is go to Tonlé Sap lake, just outside of Siem Reap, to see a “floating” villages.

    What’s fascinating about Tonlé Sap is that its river system reverses twice a year. In the dry season it drains into the Mekong, but during the wet season, silt from the Mekong Delta causes the river to back up, flooding much of the country and expanding the lake. So a lot of the villages here are built on tall stilts to avoid the rising water.

    We visited one called Kampong Phluk. It was dry when we arrived, so we could walk about the village easily enough. It was very lively, with a wedding underway, a school in full swing, and music blaring. The houses are beautifully colourful, which apparently helps keep flies and mosquitoes away at night.

    The highlight was when we were taken by boat to a “floating restaurant” on the lake, where we spent a few hours chatting over beers and watching the sunset. You cannot see land for miles, so it’s quite surreal to be sitting on a raft in the middle of the water drinking beers. I believe there are crocodiles in the water though, so do not advise swimming in it!

    A day tour felt like plenty, but I know someone who stayed there for a month, so there’s clearly more to it for those who want to dig deeper.

    Lots to offer and well connected

    It might not be a headline digital nomad hub, but if you’re a remote worker looking for somewhere cheap, lively, and historically intriguing to linger, Siem Reap has a lot to offer.

    Not only is it a great mix of culture, calm, and coffee, Koh Rong, Koh Rong Sanloem and Phnom Penh are all reachable within the day, and it has its own airport in case you needed to hop out of the country quickly.

    Yes, price are a little higher than Thailand and Laos – roughly £3 to £5 for a meal, for instance – but still very affordable. I could have certainly stayed longer, but the islands were calling me, so I spent the following week decompressing on the beach. It’s a hard life being a nomad!

  • Vietnam’s Ha Giang Loop: is this dangerous route worth the journey?

    A brutally honest review of Vietnam’s best-known excursion

    Written March 2026 – updated April 2026*

    UPDATED – The text below was written in March 2026 about my experience in March 2025. Whilst I have not changed the article, I have expanded some points with footnotes and further info at the bottom. This is in response to questions I have received after the death of a Welsh teenager on the loop this April.

    It was a quiet day in March 2025 when I found myself in Hanoi, panic-buying warm clothes in anticipation for the Ha Giang loop. This is a stunning motorcycle pilgrimage into the northernmost mountains of Vietnam, known for its forested limestone and granite mountains, and unique Dong Van Karst Plateau.

    It had been much lauded by backpackers throughout my three weeks in Vietnam, building a sense of anticipation that I had learned not to trust too much. It could be my age – could be jealousy – but I do not trust TikTokers that never have a bad word to say about anything.

    You’ll be jaded soon enough, bitches.*1

    Curiosity bites though, and I booked an organised tour with an easy rider (a hired driver). After two months of working and travelling in Asia, my capacity for careful planning had reached its maximum, and not bothering to analyse my options in detail, I opted for Bong Hostel. As someone who likes their peace protected, I sensed this could bite me in the bum..and it sort of did.

    I rocked up in the evening with my loot of newly purchased thermals (essential even in March), hustled for a few quid, and caught the six-hour bus to Ha Giang.

    As we pulled out, a German lad next to me threw a loud and prolonged tantrum to his pals (and in fact all of us) about the lack of USB ports on the bus. Whilst he wept over his dead phone, I smugly thanked my stars for my power bank and increasingly well-developed foresight.

    There was a quick overnight stop and early breakfast before we split into groups of ten. We were then introduced to our drivers and escorted promptly into the mountains on the bikes.

    This is when my heart sank a little. Noticing a sea of matching T-shirts ahead of me, I recognised that I’d been put in a group with eight or nine people who already knew each other from another travel stop.

    Scenes from the Ha Giang Loop, Vietnam

    They were a nice bunch, but situations like this make for an inevitably more challenging time, especially if your social battery is low (or if you struggle with English). It’s just more effort. That’s one of the challenges with going on a trip with a bigger hostel, but it’s also something you just have to get used to with trips like this, I’ve learned.

    As we climbed the mountain, I revelled in the bliss of being able to enjoy the wonderful scenery on the back of a bike, driven by someone that knows the route inside out. With steep, winding roads, the loop is dangerous to ride, and hiring your own bike is not generally advised (although Bong does offer the chance to drive alone, with guides in tow)2.

    There is a sweet serenity to popping in your headphones and soaking up the natural world with the feel of the wind in your ha- OH wait. We’re stopping already, are we? Hold on, just let me take my helmet off (again). Staggers off bike.

    Thus began our routine. For the next four days, every thirty minutes or so, we would stop at a café for a lollypop, photo, and a game of Đá cầu (“foot badminton”), Vietnam’s national sport.

    A couple of times a day, the pitstops were welcomed. Đá cầu was a lot of fun. But after a while, the routine started to grate on me. Am I the only one? “No, we agree,” said the girls in my group. “Way too much stopping. Let’s just keep going!” I’m all for a viewpoint, particularly on a trip like this, but the continuous stopping was giving me whiplash.

    There are a ton of other groups on the loop, so it could be to do with traffic control3, but it felt a little forced. Obviously they want you to buy something at every stop, too. It’s economics.

    Some of the cafés were really sweet, and enjoying a tea or coffee over a terrific view is truly special. I reckon doing the loop yourself and taking your time with it would be perfect, if you’re confident. Other establishments were a little more interesting – think karaoke on a cliff edge at 10am type stuff. That’s the deal in Vietnam though. They live loudly, even in the mountains!

    Every evening, we would pull up at a hostel and settle in for dinner. The hostels we stayed at were very clean and comfortable, and we were extremely well fed, I must say.

    However, before each meal, our drivers sat behind our chairs and forced us to repeat the Vietnamese drinking chant whilst knocking back shots of rice wine4. This was novel the first night – less so by night two – and by night three, I was ready to smash the shot glass and swallow the pieces.

    By some twist of fate, it seems, my driver and I were spiritually aligned because he seemed as awkward and uncomfortable as me about the whole thing. “Are you an Aquarius?” I said on Google Translate. “Yes!” he said. As a rather awkward Aquarius rising myself, the immediate kinship was a comfort, especially when I saw him sneaking off to bed to avoid the singing.

    On our last day, we stopped by a lake and went for a swim in the cave. That was a lot of fun and a nice way to end the experience. Apparently this is only available if you book the four day excursion. Everyone online suggested that I book the longer tour, so I did – but to be honest, you’ll get to see as much as you need to from the shorter trip, I reckon.

    I’m a grumpy bugger at times, and had been backpacking for a while at this point, so don’t let my review put you off doing the Ha Giang Loop. I still had fun, and the scenery is wonderful – that cannot be overstated. It’s also very affordable, costing around £150, so not pricey at all for what you get to experience.

    I am also a realist though, so do want to be honest about the fact that this trip won’t be for everyone. If I had my time again, I would travel with a smaller, quieter group5. Due to the young age range with Bong, there was way too much forced partying, and they couldn’t seem to read the room that we didn’t want that experience every night, given the 7am starts. On the other hand, I felt very safe, everything was prompt, the drivers were nice and it was very well organised.

    My top tips for making the most of it as a solo traveller are:

    Check in with yourself before booking. What size group would you rather go with? You’ll likely bond more in a smaller group, but everyone’s different.

    Dress warm. This is so important. Check the weather, message people already there, ask on Reddit or Hostelworld. Find out what the temperature is like just before hand.

    Bring cash. For tips and snacks.

    Bring earplugs (I opt for Loops) to drown out the karaoke if you need an early night.

    UPDATED April 2026* – Expanding on the above, given some questions I’ve had from people following the death of a British teenager in April this year.

    I have not edited the blog post above, because it was my authentic experience. But following the death of a British teenager in April this year, I wanted to elaborate on some points of consideration for those of you considering the loop. I am not a journalist, so can only speak from my experience and opinion.

    1. HYPE – my point about travel Tiktokers in the first paragraph still stands. Please remember that they are not journalists, or critical thinkers. Most are just looking for clout. That doesn’t mean they’re lying, of course, but my advice before booking any travel experience – especially a dangerous one – would be to use a variety of travel sources, including reviews, blogs, news articles, and books. If you don’t think you will be able to relax and enjoy it, just don’t go. ↩︎
    2. SAFETY – Hundreds of people ride the loop every day, and the majority of them are fine. But there ARE accidents and deaths. I had a friend of a friend who died on the loop a few years back, which I was aware of before booking. I am not going to pretend to be a reporter, but this problem is clearly coming to light now in the press. I would encourage anyone reading to take notice of the stats if they can find them, and make a judgement call based on their research ↩︎
    3. TRAFFIC – There’s a LOT of people on the loop. I personally did not feel that this was a massive issue on my trip, but it was clearly something that the local groups tried to manage (and, I believe, a reason for the continuous stopping). I imagine it’s only getting busier as social media pushes people to visit this part of the world. All those videos of girls with long hair throwing their arms up on the back of a bike? Picture hundreds of them at once, crowding the same roads and bends. ↩︎
    4. ALCOHOL – As I said above – Bong (like many hostels) encouraged drinking in the evenings, which really bothered me. I had a really nice, sensible driver, but this cannot be said for all of them. It speaks to a party culture that just doesn’t feel appropriate on a dangerous journey. I had the sense that the Vietnamese think that this is what people want, so they push it hard. You just have to trust that the drivers know their limits, and that is scary. It’s also not just the easy riders you need to think about – consider that other drivers on the loop (fellow travellers) might have been drinking too, and may or may not be ready to go the next day. ↩︎
    5. VIBES – If any part of what I have said is a concern for you, my advice would be to find a smaller group aimed at an older age group (no matter your age). There is no shame in it. ↩︎

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