This past summer, I recall reading about Julie Williams, an IT consultant from Birkdale on Merseyside. She had decided to make a ball pit in her spare room, rather than rent it. Why? For fun. ‘You can never be sad in a ball pit.’
Moments like this are important, because they remind you of your free will. Other personal milestones will do this for you, by causing you to reflect on your life and what you want from it.
Turning 30 is one. It’s an absurdly young, and pretty much nondescript birthday in the 21st century, when the average life span – at least for Brits – is over 80.
I’ve truly never clung to traditional milestones (house/baby/marriage/divorce), and count climbing out of credit card debt as the maturest moment in my adult life to date.
But still, the flood of ‘30 birthdays’ that come for us all – right before the hen dos – gave me pause to reflect. Was I happy? Had I challenged myself enough? Was I excited about the next decade?
Who am I?
Not to get too Lewis Carroll about it, but this last one was the catalyst for me in late 2023. In a way I felt that I didn’t know myself anymore, or at least not all the versions – just the city-shaped, university-fied version. And she was restless.
Meanwhile, semi remote work in London had become my new normal. The days of spilling out to the pub every week with colleagues had gone. I had a lovely team in my PR job, but rotating schedules meant it took too long get past the pleasantries.
People generally – and I include myself in this – have become more selfish with their time. I don’t think this is a bad thing. Hell, if you’re going to replace me with AI, at least give me another 30 minutes in bed / to read to my kids / paint / write / support a charity / stare into the abyss.
Having one foot in, one foot out, however, began to wear on me amidst the rising cost of living in London. You start to weigh up what the value is. Do I really want my days to be defined by the price of flat whites and whether or not a Soho House membership is cost effective?
Not to bash these things, because I take comfort from water cooler culture as much as everyone else – it’s part of the fun.
But when I found myself googling ‘Martin Lewis’ wife’, something had to give.
So in early 2025, just after turning 31, I decided to give this digital nomad lark a go, beginning with three months in South East Asia. As a freelancer, I’d work less, but live more – mostly with strangers.
Since then, I’ve worked from 12 countries, mostly – but not always – travelling alone, with just one bag and a laptop. I’ve managed to see some more of the UK too, including Brighton and Bude, and I even squeezed in some volunteering in Scotland during December, supporting an immersive language school, and working on my days off.
They say when you travel alone your brain works harder. Well I’m finding myself more motivated and excited about things I’m working on – both personally and professionally – than I have been for a long time.
My confidence has improved; back pain is gone; I’ve started a side hustle and a supper club, created this blog, and made a website for my pet sitting service.
It’s not been without challenge – I want to be transparent about that. I was surprised at how hard I found the adjustment at times. But as I approach the one year mile stone, I have no regrets at all about my ‘mini retirement’ – and plan to continue the journey.
For anyone interested, I’m attempting to document my experiences and reflections as authentically as possible on this blog.
I arrived in Singapore at the end of a three-month trip from the UK to Asia. By then, my interest in forward planning was at rock bottom, but my confidence in my own tastes and intuition was sky-high.
Singapore is a small island sitting just south of Malaysia, and one of the world’s most densely populated countries. It’s been independent since the 60s and, with historic links to British colonial rule via the British East India Company, is now a global financial hub.
It’s also become known as a bit of a stopover city. Typically, you’re flying in or out for a meeting, or in order to get somewhere else – which usually means you’re tired, jet-lagged, and possibly dragging a big suitcase behind you.
Luckily, it’s teeny-weeny. At around twice the size of the Isle of Wight – and roughly 2.5 times smaller than Greater London – you can enjoy what it has to offer within 24–48 hours, if you’re realistic about what’s achievable (spoiler – it’s not just skyscrapers!).
Depending on the length of your layover, bear in mind that the airport is around 30–45 minutes from the city (longer at peak times). I took a taxi, which cost around £20, or $32 Singapore dollars.
Here’s how I spent a perfect two days.
First of all – sleep. I flew in from Sydney, so it was a relatively short flight, arriving late at night. I decided to stay in an area called Kampong Glam, Singapore’s historic Malay–Muslim quarter (more on this shortly).
After a good night’s sleep, I spotted a sign for kaya toast. This is a traditional breakfast in the country, so I decided to check it out.
It looks and tastes a bit like a peanut butter sandwich, but the filling is actually a sweet coconut–pandan jam (kaya). It’s served with soft-boiled eggs, soy sauce and pepper, alongside a strong coffee (kopi).
I didn’t really know what I was doing, but a kindly stranger advised that you’re meant to dip the toast into the egg and sort of lap it up.
I enjoyed it – but if you’re after something more Western (which might be the case after a long trip away), there are plenty of cafés offering cooked breakfasts too. It’s a cosmopolitan city, at the end of the day.
Next, spend some time exploring the old town – Kampong Glam in particular. Even before you’ve done any Googling, you can tell this is the ‘cool bit’.
Unlike the modern high-rises typical of the Singaporean skyline, this small cluster of streets is made up of shorter, squatter buildings packed closely together, many adorned with colourful street art.
Walking around in the daytime, it was full of a mix of older and more modern cafés (including places like % Arabica, one of my favourites in Hackney), lots of cute shops, and the beautiful Sultan Mosque – the largest in Singapore.
Kampong Glam is made for Instagram, so if you’re a talented photographer (unlike me), you’ll want to kill some time here like I did exploring the artwork, buying trinkets and hopping between cafés and ice-cream shops.
By this point, it’ll be pretty hot.
So, after seeking shade in a market, I took the train into the centre, heading towards the Singapore Botanic Gardens. The gardens provide welcome relief from the chaos and closeness of the surrounding streets and buildings and – fun fact – are the first and only tropical botanic garden on UNESCO’s World Heritage List. No idea why that is, but it’s blooming nice.
I passed a peaceful couple of hours here watching otters and lizards, and stopping for lunch at the café, before the heat finally overwhelmed me.
Towards evening, I swung by Marina Bay Sands for a hot chocolate and a seat by the water to watch the evening light and water show, Spectra. It runs at 8pm and 9pm (with later shows on weekends). It’s genuinely impressive, and worth sitting down to watch before wandering along the marina.
If there’s time, you can also head next door to Gardens by the Bay for the Garden Rhapsody show at the Supertree Grove. If you’ve ever seen photos of Singapore, chances are you’ll have seen images of these huge illuminated tree-like structures. I’m a dummy and missed it, but I hear it’s fantastic.
After the light shows, I advocate for taking a nice walk along the bay, soaking up the buzz of the city, or grabbing a drink nearby.
Finally – don’t forget the airport!
It’s a spectacle in itself. I had a midday flight the next day, so I arrived a couple of hours earlier than strictly necessary. You can head to Jewel Changi Airport, a kind of ‘lifestyle hub’ that feels more like a futuristic indoor jungle than an airport. At its centre is the Rain Vortex – the world’s tallest indoor waterfall – surrounded by layered greenery and walkways. If you’re going to make an airport, make it pretty right?
Whether or leaving or entering Asia – don’t sleep on Singapore. A day or two in the country is plenty, so if you’re around this way, split your flight, dump your bag and let the city show you what it’s good at.
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, 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.
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?
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.
Meeting the monks
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, which was a little disappointing. 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.
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.
If you want to understand more about why this is, and how this landscape is shifting, take a look at this compelling interview on the topic. I’ve also added some videos from the sessions on my instagram (@womanmeetsw0rld).
Pause for thought
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.
Most people go to Vietnam with intention – whether that’s to enjoy the history, the food or the landscapes. But too much planning can kill the thrill of travel, so when I arrived in April 2025, following a week of pure luxury on the golden sands of Koh Rong Sanloem in Cambodia I didn’t have much of a view as to what to expect.
What I did know is that it would be very busy (or “cognitively demanding” as this article puts it) – and pulling into Saigon after eight days on a paradise island was certainly an assault on the senses.
Real life Mario Kart
In some ways, my biggest takeaway from those first few days was simply the traffic. I’d been quite cavalier about jumping on motorcycles (Grabs) through Thailand, Laos and Cambodia so didn’t change my routine initially. But if you’re going to Ho Chi Minh City, I’d actually advise taking cars wherever you can (see my instagram reel for chaos in 4K).
The density of traffic here is some of the worst in the world, and whilst the idea of playing real-life Mario Kart sounds fun, it’s best enjoyed against friends from the sofa in my book and I wish I’d been more careful (though I clearly survived to tell the tale!). Don’t risk your life to save a couple of pounds on a Grab. I’d also think twice before riding your own bike in Ho Chi Minh (!) unless you truly understand this part of the world.
If you need more convincing, even my Uber driver was visibly scared picking me up during rush hour. And crossing the road? Don’t even try it. Saigon does not stop for you, and I nearly learned that the hard way.
A long overdue history lesson
Anyone that’s spent time in Asian cities will understand how overwhelming they can be. Rather than attempt to get to know Ho Chi Minh in much detail, I preserved my energy with visits to two of the city’s most important historic attractions – the War Remnants Museum and the Cu Chi tunnels.
I’d been having a great time on my trip, soaking up the recent history of Laos and Cambodia. The Vietnam war – or as they’d call it, the “American war” – is something I was never really taught at school, and I felt a pull to understand it better.
If you like to dig into the weeds of things like I do, my biggest tip for the museum would be to go there with some background context. On the 9 hour coach trip from Sihanoukville, I had been listening to The Rest Is History series on the conflict (something I continued with whilst on the Ha Giang Loop) which gave me a helpful grounding in the events leading up to it. Otherwise, it could feel overwhelming – it did go on for twenty years, after all!
In my naivety, I didn’t expect the museum to be so anti American. It’s obviously curated from a communist Vietnamese perspective, and being able to compare the two narratives side by side, was one of the most interesting parts of the experience. Whilst it helped me hold both viewpoints in balance, the long and short of it is that it was a painfully drawn out shit show, especially right at the end.
Keen to deepen my knowledge, I took a tour to the Cu Chi tunnels, where the Viet Cong (communist resistance) lived underground during the war. Crawling through the tunnels, and hearing about how terrible it was for them (and also the soldiers they killed) really provides a reality check of how brutal that conflict must have been. I noticed a lot of Vietnamese people I spoke to still used the name Saigon to describe the city, which speaks to the differing political viewpoints people there still have.
Re-energising myself with a cooked breaky
But aside from my history lessons – and some very good vegan bánh mì – I didn’t spend a huge amount of time exploring Ho Chi Minh, so apologies that I can’t give more of a deep dive. Simply put, ‘travel fatigue’ had set in, and it was especially acute given I’d just had a wonderful time in Cambodia.
I’d been travelling around Asia as a digital nomad for about six weeks. I wasn’t working full-time, but moving constantly, leaving people behind, meeting new ones, and planning every next step was a lot to process, both mentally and physically. At just over a month in, it was starting to take its toll, and I simply didn’t have the same energy for new experiences as I had at the beginning.
Rightly or wrongly, this most likely shaped my first impressions of Vietnam. For an insight into my head space – on my second morning, I got in an Uber and asked to be taken to Melbourne Café for a fry-up. My first Western meal of the trip, in Vietnam! Some might find that sacrilege, but you’ve got to have those home comforts some times. I’d never been so happy to see a baked bean, but I assure you that I went straight back to eating local food after that.
It’s good to know your limits, and given that so much ‘nomad’ content is overly positive, I’m happy to share that perspective. After all, I want this blog to be an honest reflection of my experience. So, after two days, I headed north, arriving in the lantern-lit streets of Hoi An – where things immediately brightened up.
Why the Spanish capital is perfect for a spring time soiree.
Sept 2025
This will sound conceited, but as a child, I found myself slightly bored by Spain.
I was born in the 90s, which means I’m very much a product of parents seduced by programmes like A Place in the Sun. TV at the time was obsessed with our hot neighbour, and – like a lot of people – Mum and Dad bought into the dream of becoming expats by investing in a small villa on the Costa Brava.
In reality, this meant we spent a few weeks a year visiting what was essentially a building site near Alicante. And while it was obviously a huge privilege – and I do have really fond memories of those times with my family – the trips were hardly cultural experiences. You’re not exactly getting under the skin of Spain in those expat villages, especially as every second person is English.
Fast forward a few years and I chose to study Spanish at A-level. Since then I’ve travelled a little more widely across the country and it turns out there’s a lot to love. Whilst Seville and Barcelona rank highly in my list of Spanish city breaks, in this guide, I’m making the case for its often-overlooked rival: Madrid.
My memories of Madrid as a child mostly involve avoiding the excruciating mid-summer heat. But revisiting in September last year for my friend’s hen do made realise just how great a spot it is for a shoulder-month visit.
So as April approaches, here’s my guide on how to spend the perfect short spring break in the Spanish capital.
Day 1: Tapas and tortillas with a hint of history
First of all, where should you stay? Well, consider that Madrid is Spain’s biggest city, and comes in at double the size of Barcelona. It’s a busy, urban spot, but if you want a neighbourhood feel, I can advocate for an area called Lavapiés.
This is one of the city’s most characterful neighbourhoods; full of street art, independent cafés and, importantly, pockets of shade. I felt relatively safe there, although I would advise being vigilant at night (I usually check reddit for information about local safety!).
Start your trip early by grabbing coffee and pastries from one of the local favourites such as Nomade Café or Hola Coffee, and enjoy the gorgeous murals.
Then, from Lavapiés, take a 20–25 minute walk (or a short bus ride) into the historic centre.
Head towards the Royal Palace of Madrid, passing through Plaza de Oriente on the way. This area feels like the “classic” Madrid you see in photos, and is nice for a little walk and photo snapping before the heat of the day sets in; I didn’t go inside the museum, but you can do so if you want (if you later join a walking tour, they’ll likely cover the history).
For lunch, escape the heat and go in search of tortillas. Not the Mexican flatbread version, but the Spanish kind: thick, eggy, and often slightly gooey in the middle. I liked La Martinuca for its different variations (best enjoyed sitting inside), or Pez Tortilla on Calle de Espoz y Mina for somewhere more chaotic and buzzy; lots of locals crowded around standing tables.
In the afternoon, ease into some culture at Museo Reina Sofía. If you time it right (after 4pm), entry is free, so head over at 3 to join the queue (perhaps with a beer in hand); this is an easy way to add something “cultural” without overcommitting your day.
As evening sets in, lean into Madrid’s slightly chaotic energy by stopping for sangria and tapas at El Tigre or La Torre del Oro. These are traditional pubs known for generous – and borderline excessive – free food with drinks. You’ll be able to stuff your face and get a bit drunk as the heat cools.
Teeter back towards Lavapiés, and reload on those calories with some more local snacks. If you’re alone or in a couple, grab a table at Bar Melos and try the croquetas.
Day 2: All the art & a gilda girl tea
Start your second day in the heart of historic Madrid. Book yourself a walking tour from Plaza Mayor, and build in thirty minutes to enjoy the traditional square earlier in the day before it gets too crowded.
From here, take a 5-minute walk to the covered food market, Mercado de San Miguel. While this is not the cheapest spot in the city, it’s perfect for a grazing-style lunch; think gildas, croquetas, mini burgers, and a glass of something cold. My friend and I had great fun perusing the different stalls and oggling the giant fish.
In the afternoon, head to either Museo del Prado or Reina Sofía, whichever you missed yesterday. They’re about a 20-minute walk from Plaza Mayor, or a quick metro ride if it’s hot.
Trying to do both in one day is ambitious and, honestly, unnecessary. I personally loved the Museo del Prado for its classical and religious works, from Velázquez to Goya; they really give you a sense of Spain’s artistic heritage. Reina Sofía, on the other hand, was a joy because of its surrealist highlights; Dali, Miró, and Picasso really get the mind going!
Afterwards, what else – but more booze and food! Near the museum, there’s a cute side street with food stalls, including a place called La Consentida, where I enjoyed a happy hour washing an eclectic mix of gildas down with some rosé. This is a wonderful classic tapa, composed of a pickled Guindilla pepper, a salty anchovy fillet, and a green Manzanilla olive on a stick.
On the way back, detour to La Pizzateca for a pizza slice; once in Lavapiés, finish with ice cream from Gelato Artesanal.
Practical tips: Museums are free after 4pm (Reina Sofía) and 6pm (Prado Wed-Sat), so plan accordingly; weekdays are less crowded than weekends.
Day 3: Pastries and park walks
By day three, you might feel a little full and want to slow down, especially if you have a flight to catch.
Begin, again, with coffee in Lavapiés. I advocate for pastries from Acid Café, but there’s a lot of cute places to sit down, too. If you want to stay in the area, I’d recommend reading this article for a full list of things to do.
Eventually, make your way towards El Retiro Park near the Ibiza neighbourhood. Depending on where you’re starting, it’s roughly a 20–30 minute walk from the centre and worth doing on foot if you can.
Ibiza is a busy spot, but good for more local eateries. I stumbled upon Parador del Jamón, known for traditional sandwiches (less useful if you’re vegetarian, but very “Madrid”), and there are plenty of other casual spots around.
Retiro is where Madrid softens; tree-lined paths, rowboats, people reading in the shade – it’s less about sightseeing and more about just being there. Bring snacks, something to drink, and take your time. I was alone for this part of my trip, so put a podcast in, but it’s also lovely for a read in the sunshine. It’s a nice place to visit at golden hour.
Following your park walk, settle down somewhere nearby for more tapas and Sangria. If you’re back in Lavapies, grab a table outside La Inquilina for wine and some delicious gildas.
If you’re working remotely…
If you’re mixing travel with work (like I am), Madrid makes it easy. I liked La Bicicleta Café and Federal Café as relaxed spots to spend a few hours; good coffee, good atmosphere, and no pressure to rush. Be aware though, that lots of cafes in Lavapiés do not allow laptops.
Overall – Madrid is a feast for the mind and stomach
Madrid can even feel a little overwhelming due to its pace and scale, especially compared to smaller Spanish cities. But don’t write it off for a mini break. Give it a couple of days – wander a bit, eat well, sit in the sun – and it starts to click. And once it does, it’s very easy to see why people keep coming back.
If you’re looking for more Spring time city break ideas, why not read my piece about Copenhagen.
After a whirlwind weekend in Ho Chi Minh City – my sixth week as a digital nomad in Asia – I took a short flight northward to the central coast of Vietnam. Having depleted my energy stocks in the capital, I was looking forward to some downtime in the cutesy, lantern-lit streets of Hội An.
Sitting about halfway up the coast of Vietnam, this ancient coastal town is popular with tourists and, like any popular location, attracts mixed feedback from nomads. From people I spoke to, most tend to go to the nearby city of Da Nang because it’s right on the beach, a little more built up, and, I suspect, offers more to people wanting to build a life out here.
Luckily though, I wasn’t planning on sticking around for long, so I could lean into being a tourist a bit. Everyone has a different goal when travelling, and the whole point of my trip was to take me out of my city comfort zone, dip my toe into nomad life, and take advantage of freelancing by seeing some of the places in the world I’d always wanted to. If that’s something you’re also considering, take a read of this blog where I talk about why I left London in early 2025.
Where I stayed
Wanting to be with other travellers, I booked a dorm bed at the adorable Saclo Hostel, where I met the loveliest bunch of people. Like most hostels I stayed at during my trip, it played host to a mix of travellers and nomads in their twenties and thirties.
We ended up doing ‘family dinners’, nights out, language lessons, co-working sessions, and simply roaming around the city together, with the help of our excellent host. There was something very restorative about falling into temporary routines with strangers after the intensity of Ho Chi Minh City, especially as I’d had such a brilliant time with the Koh Rong gang.
If you’re travelling alone (and are a bit older), I’d avoid the big-brand hostels and search for smaller ones offering activities, because it often results in a much better experience.
Is there a nomad scene?
As to whether there is a “nomad scene”, it’s hard to say because I wasn’t there long, but like I said – it’s common for remote workers in this part of the world to split their time between Chiang Mai and Da Nang, which is very close to Hoi An, so there will be some crossover.
Luckily I had met some of them in Chiang Mai, which meant I had some connections locally, and I took a day trip to Da Nang waterfalls with a group of people living in a newly opened co-living space.
There’s clearly some long-time nomads in Asia making a special effort behind the scenes to create a sense of community for remotees, which I really admire. It’s difficult moving abroad, so if this is something you plan to do, make an effort to search for those people – whether it’s via flyers, reddit, or chats over coffee – and get networking!
Cafés, co-working and coconut coffees
No matter if there’s a big scene or not, behind those lantern-lit fronts are a ton of modern bars, bistros, and cafés, which are perfect for people needing a bit of work downtime. There are loads of veggie and vegan spots too, some even built with yoga and co-working in mind. You really don’t need to pay for spenny yoga retreats when you’re in Asia – just do it yourself!
Few things on social media are as wonderful in reality, but that can’t be said for Hub Hoi An. Set right in the middle of electric green rice paddy fields, it fosters an authentic, off-grid feeling whilst running like a proper co-working space, with all the facilities you’d need and community events to boot. I’d highly recommend coming here if you plan to stay for a while and want to make friends. Shout out to Matt for recommending it.
This place is fab for a big breakfast or brunch (think £4-5 for a hug meal). There’s a decent upstairs area for laptops and yoga during the week too (although it’s closed on Mondays).
Such a cute café, hidden down a side street and surrounded by lush greenery. It felt like the sort of place you accidentally spend three hours in without realising. Also has a very dangerous little gift shop if you’re a tote bag person. Very calming energy.
Where everyone settles in for the afternoon – Goodeats Hoi An
This spot is super relaxed and remote-work friendly, but I also noticed lots of families hanging out here too. One of those places where everyone seems to naturally settle in for the afternoon.
Home to the best iced coconut coffee I had in Vietnam, and the most accommodating manager.
Instagram reality check
Taking a bike through the paddy fields at sunrise, sampling cafés, and hunting for the best bánh mìs – this is the kind of thing that brings me joy. But like most spots in Asia, the town also offers the option of taking cooking classes, coffee-making workshops, visiting the nearby coast at Da Nang, or getting a dress or suit made (which I did do, although I’m yet to wear her).
That said, like all places in Asia, it would be remiss of me not to do the old “Instagram v reality” wake-up call. Some fun, but slightly overrated, activities for me were:
The coconut boats
I had a feeling they wouldn’t really be my thing, but I did them anyway because they’re so iconic. It’s cheap and only takes about an hour, but the whole thing does feel a bit tourist-trappy. You’re basically spun around while people sing and ask for tips. That said, the area itself is beautiful, and it’s nice to spend some time in such an important natural space.
The lantern parade
The multicoloured canal boats are pretty enough to look at, that’s for sure. But this isn’t exactly the sweet, idyllic scene you see on TikTok. It was busy, loud, and a bit chaotic, being right by the strip with all the bars and nightlife.
I also can’t help but feel that lighting lanterns is an unsustainable practice, which really put me off. Perhaps in future there can be a way to do this that is kinder for the waterways and surrounding environment, but until then, I’m unsure how I feel about it.
Despite the slightly overrated tourist-grabbing activities – which is true for any location – I found Hoi An overall, to be as cute as a button, and ended up staying for a week (though three days is probably plenty if you’re a tourist or short on time). The chaos of Ho Chi Minh City felt miles away, replaced by the hum of scooters, the cluck of chickens, and the buzz of baristas whipping up coconut coffees.
Heading there in mid-March felt like the perfect time, as we caught a slightly cooler weather window. After March and April, it gets really hot, then really rainy, before cooling down again in January and February. (Central Vietnam can also see flooding in the later months, so check conditions before you travel.) North Vietnam gets properly cold in the early part of the year too, so plan your trip with that in mind – and do not underestimate its weird weather!
