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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  • Swinging from the tree tops at The Gibbon Experience, Laos

    I cross from Thailand to Laos, for a proper weekend off

    I wasn’t even planning to visit Laos during my South East Asia trip last year. Then one day in November, whilst hunched over my desk planning my route, I saw a deeply enticing picture – a wooden treehouse, surrounded by leaves, and doused in sunshine.

    It was a snap from The Gibbon Experience – a tourism-based conservation programme that allows people to stay in tree houses and zip wire across Nam Kan national park in Northern Laos.

    The organisation protects the area from logging by creating an alternative income, and gives the locals here a way of life. Guests that come here have a small chance of spotting endangered black-crested Gibbons (did we see them? Read on to find out).

    After a quick scan of reddit and TripAdvisor – my go-to for travel advice – it seemed legit. And as luck would have it, there was availability during the weekend I had planned to leave Chiang Mai (but not before – so book at least three months ahead!).

    Without much further thought, I booked a two night stay (the “Classic” tour) for around £300. This was the most expensive thing I bought during my time in South East Asia, where I worked for three months as a digital nomad – so I didn’t hold back. How else does one spend their weekends off in Asia?

    Entering Laos via the Thai Laos Friendship Bridge

    First of all, I had to get from Chiang Mai in Thailand – where I’d been working for the week – to Laos. That meant crossing the Thai Laos Friendship Bridge.

    This was my first land border crossing of the trip, so I was a little nervous, especially as I’ve mostly travelled in Europe which is pretty straightforward as a Brit.

    But having my passport photos and PRINTED e-visa in hand, made the process pretty simple. If you don’t bring this with you, ensure you have $50 crisp dollar notes so that you can pay for your visa.

    Laos is a developing nation, so a little preparation goes far.

    Most people heading into Laos this way will stop first at the nearest small town, Huay Xai (pronounced “Hox Aye”). Once I had crossed the border, a couple of buses took us into the town, making the process fairly straightforward and easy to navigate as a solo traveller.

    Luckily, you don’t need to get Lao kip (LAK) before entering the country – they accept Thai baht, and sometimes even US dollars. So do NOT use up all your Baht when leaving Thailand. You’ll need some to pay for the bus over the Friendship Bridge, and the driver in Laos (it cost us around 200 baht each).

    Once your baht is gone though, you’ll need cash. The kip isn’t a strong currency, and the country is cheap as chips – a clean dorm bed will set you back around £6–8, and meals are £1–3. The max you can get out of the ATM is 2M kip (around £70), so just grab the lot, and use it up – don’t get little amounts.

    Another big tip – the ATMs in Laos can’t be trusted. Take your money from the machine as soon as it comes out. I was with a girl whose cash got swallowed back in and one took my bank card later in Vang Vieng (a story for another time).

    Laos feels much smaller and rural after Thailand, because it is. Memories of the first five minutes include being overtaken by children on motorbikes, and wall to wall adverts for Beerlao.

    With this in mind, I had pre-booked a dorm room at “Little Hostel”. I needed a good night’s sleep, and wanted somewhere clean and comfortable.

    It really delivered, and the girl running it (who spoke excellent English) even made us a wonderful porridge breakfast. There’s a number of nice options for dinner too, but bear in mind, service will be VERY slow. That’s just what it’s like in Laos!

    Heading to the park, and facing my fear of heights

    The Gibbon Experience office is easy to find, and we headed there at around 8am to swap our bigger bags for overnight packs. After a rather glitchy safety video, we put our lives in the hands of the staff and started the two hour drive up the mountains.

    The next four hours was a blur that consisted of weeing in holes in the ground (common all over Laos), swapping extremely rudimentary small talk with our guides (mostly just smiling and nodding) and not looking each other in the eye until we stopped at the Gibbon Exp. Headquarters for lunch.

    There were eight people in my group (just three couples, and two solo travellers, including me), and after a filling lunch of glass noodles, we started to wake up, and managed to exchange names and back stories (long story short, we had a wonderful time together).

    Stopping for lunch at the headquarters

    The trip requires a fair bit of hiking, so be prepared

    We then took a shortish trek into the forest, where we were taught how to use the zip lines.

    It was a little nerve wracking to begin with, because – if you’ve seen the footage from my instagram – you’re extremely high up. In the tree tops, no less! In addition, neither of our guides spoke good English. For full transparency, there was a death in 2017, but since then, the organisation has tightened it’s health and safety (and critically, weight limit). I knew this ahead of time and felt comfortable, but do your research and consider what feels right to you.

    I’m actually slightly afraid of heights, but the minute I jumped off the ledge, I was just buzzing. Nothing can prepare you for the incredible views of the canopies, and the quiet sound of the forest around you as you’re speeding along the wire – that’s for sure.

    After a couple of hours, we zip wired towards our treehouse and retired for the evening (at around 4pm).

    Dinner at our treehouse

    As the sun started setting, it was time to explore our home for the weekend.

    The treehouses, raised over 40 metres off the ground, are wonderful. It was just like being in Swallows and Amazons, but with modern accompaniments. I’m talking a flushing toilet, electric lights, and a waterfall shower. Yes it’s cold – but it comes with a view of the jungle, so compromises must be made!

    Dinner consisted of spring rolls, eggs, rice, noodles and coffee, and was wired in by the guides, who also joined us for traditional shots of rice wine.

    Zip wiring for days on end is tiring, so when the guides left, after helping us with our beds, we deftly located the biscuit box and guzzled them down whilst playing card games.

    When darkness truly fell, the six of us turned off the lights and listened to the sounds of the dense wildlife, before getting into our enclosed ‘bed tents’ and settling into a deeply comfortable sleep.

    The forest is noisy at night, so bring ear plugs if that bothers you (I quite enjoyed it).

    Bonding with the wildlife

    Up at 7am for brekky, which – given it was a repeat of the last evening – was a bit of a shock to the European tummy. The food remained the same for the next 3 days, with slight variations each time, and allowances for the vegans in the group.

    After coffee, we were back out on the zip lines until 11.30, with a fair bit of hiking in between. Not unmanageable, but something to keep in mind – you don’t slow down much, and even our group (20s–30s) was getting tired. Luckily we had a solid three-hour break back at treehouse five for lunch and a nap.

    In the afternoon we explored the other treehouses – the 50m-high one, the big 11-person one, and the honeymoon suite where we met a lovely retired couple that had met in Cambodia. All were wonderful, but we still felt that ours had the best view.

    We spent the evening looking at the giant spiders in the rafters and trying to catch a rat we saw deep-throating our ketchup bottle. There were also some bats flying through – they didn’t bother us, but definitely get your rabies jabs before coming. I will stress that the sleeping situation unnerved me before I left, but the mosquito nets around our tents were solid, and nothing was getting in. It was plenty warm, and pretty cosy!

    After another brilliant sunset, we were up at 5.30 the next morning for a final hike to the viewpoint. This time we headed toward a special viewpoint where the gibbons tend to feed. Unfortunately, despite lingering for some time, we did not see any – but we did hear them singing in the distance, which was a highlight.

    We packed in a little more ziplining that day, and by midday, we were back at the village for lunch, photo swapping, and the journey home. We were absolutely shattered by this point, but having bonded on the trip, much laughter was had on the way home – a sea change from the way there!

    It really was a wonderful and unique experience, for not that much money by UK standards. You can take a one night trip, but the “Classic” two night tour is less popular, more intimate, and only slightly more expensive, so I would suggest doing this. Just ensure that you book well ahead (at least three months in advance).

    My top tips:

    • Bed sharing – As a solo traveller, I did have to share a bed with a guy my age. I was comfortable with this because we got on very well, but some people might not be
    • Wildlife – Whilst I was anxious about spiders and rats, they didn’t prove to be a problem. The beds are really secure, and as long as you put your net right around it (which we did), you’ll be fine. For the spiders, my advice is to simply not look at the rafters. We did see a rat but the experience turned out to be more amusing than scary. Don’t bring snacks though, as they will eat through your bag. There are bats flying around, so get your rabies jab!
    • Games – Bring card games for evening time. I advocate for Monopoly deal
    • Timing – I’d opt for dry season, but the trips do run in the rainy season too
    • Clothes – Pack as little as you can manage, but long sleeves for the evening (I went in dry season / February). Bikini for the shower (although there is a curtain)
    • Gibbons – Accept that you probably won’t see them, but you’ll still have fun
    • Length – Do the Classic / longer tour (not the Giant Loop)! It’s a more intimate group and you see a lot more

  • 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).

    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.

    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 the gang

  • My Singapore stopover – is there more to this city than meets the eye?

    Finding biophilic joy in the financial capital.

    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.

    Sights from the Singapore Skyline

    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.

    Kaya toast – a traditional Singaporean breakfast – is usually set alongside runny, soft-boiled eggs and local coffee (kopi)

    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’.

    Sights from Kampong Glam, Singapore’s Muslim Quarter – now a vibrant shopping and eating area

    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.

    Singapore is known for its iconic hotels, including Marina Bay Sands

    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.

    Gardens by the Bay, Singapore

  • 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!

  • 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! 

  • Serendipity at Sanloem – what a week in the Cambodian islands taught me about gratitude

    “Trust me, it’s paradise.”

    Beach bliss at Koh Rong Samloem

    “Why have I done this?” I thought, looking up at the dirt track ahead of me. Some thirty minutes earlier, I’d left the gleaming white sands of Saracen Bay, on the Cambodian island of Koh Rong Sanloem. Now I was headed to the other side of the island for a digital detox. But I hadn’t expected the inner landscape to be so – well – natural.

    With no internet connection, I was relying on a screenshot of the map to get me through the brush before dusk. Noticing how late it was, I pulled my backpack higher on my shoulders, and ploughed onward.

    Crossing from Saracen Bay to Sunset Beach on the other side

    Bingo. A bit further along, someone had painted ‘Sunset Beach’ on a piece of wood, pointing down to the right. I headed into a copse of trees and started clambering back down toward the coastline. Five minutes later, I arrived at a big bamboo structure. Sunboo Beach Bungalows. “This better be worth it.” I thought.

    Saved by the board

    “Georgina! Welcome!” A voice stopped me in my tracks. It was Paulo, the owner. “I’ve got you a lemonade.” Gasping with gratitude, I gulped down the liquid and thus began an adventure that would leave me reflecting deeply on the power of serendipity.

    “A decade ago, nothing was here.” Paulo told me. Portuguese by birth, he came to Sunset Beach around this time to support a friend launching a hotel business. The result was Sunboo, a mix of tipis and bamboo dorms situated right on the beach (thank you, solar power) complete with a restaurant, kitchen, yoga platform, tiki bar and hammocks.

    Robinson Crusoe eat your heart out

    Despite feeling luxurious, there’s nothing posey about Sunboo. It has a cosy, rustic feel, led in part by its small team, who have been there since the start. It’s the kind of place where you’ll find yourself chatting to them all by name (and vice versa) and actively spending time with the staff during the week. You’re not just a faceless guest here, which felt very reassuring to me, after six weeks alone.

    The bay itself, with its pink, green, blue and yellow hues, is otherworldly. At only 500 metres long, it feels like a safe little cocoon. Every evening, people come together on the beach to watch the sunsets, which are the best on the island (expect different colours depending on the weather).

    Hues of heaven – the view from Sunboo

    Flanked either side of Sunboo, is a handful of other small businesses including a surf and dive shop, some small restaurants, and some other places to stay. Paulo was quick to inform me who they are, and what they do: “we help each other out.” He said.

    For instance, Sunboo doesn’t provide WiFi, but we could get a little bit next door as long as we bought a coffee (fair). Later in the week we found ourselves swapping games with another place down the beach: “ah, Kamaku has it!” They said. If they couldn’t fit you into the dorm another night, they’d see who else has a free room. Everyone worked together as opposed to against each other.

    I was particularly lucky the week I was there. There were only a handful of guests, and they were mostly solo like me.

    One day I was watching the bright white lighting on the beach from a blacked out hut, before seeking refuge at Sunboo’s protective bamboo fortress.

    As the hot, heavy rain hit the sand, Paulo, Nadia and Cori (spearheading yoga) sealed the walls with material shutters, and we settled in for a pizza from Sunboo’s incredible kitchen, and a cosy game of Catan.

    Taking shelter from the storm

    Forming a fast bond after that, we spent eight glorious days doing yoga, playing games, eating fresh fish, snorkelling, kayaking, reading and getting progressively drunk at the Tiki Bar with Hiro.

    Ready for my nightcap

    It was the highlight of my time in South East Asia and it all happened by chance.

    I’d actually made plans to visit the Thai islands instead, but changed my mind after spending a rather depressing day in Phnom Penh seeing the Killing Fields and S21 (essential learning).

    Then it was a choice of Koh Rong or Koh Rong Sanloem. I knew nothing about either of them, but had heard that the latter is smaller, less developed and had just gotten an internet connection a couple of months prior (and that’s only at Saracen Bay.) After a miserable bout of food poisoning in Vang Vieng, Laos, it felt like the right decision.

    Whether it was the setting, timing, or company, our special week was the result of many factors working in quiet harmony. And that analogy speaks to Sunset Beach as well.

    Yes it’s beautiful. But that’s not the only thing that makes it stand out. It’s the history; the mix of Cambodian and international businesses; the relationships that have been formed over years. The people all come with a unique story and personality, adding colour to the place that is their home. And this blend of ingredients cannot be replaced or taken for granted.

    Devastatingly though, it is. Because the businesses here have been asked to pack up and leave within the next four years to make way for developments.

    Whilst they’re hopeful for more time, if the landlord decides to sell the land to investors, the bamboo structure, which the founders of Sunboo lovingly and painstakingly assembled into their home and livelihood, will be dismantled.

    The hammocks will be taken down, the games packed away, and this magical community divided. All to make way for bigger, glossier, pricier hotels.

    We’ve probably all read or watched The Beach by Alex Garland.

    As I looked out at the Gulf of Thailand one day, I thought about how that story captured hearts, and its parallels to Sunset Beach. Despite descending into darkness, the concept of a legendary self-contained community fascinates people. As a result, many tourists went searching for it – ultimately destroying the “real” magic Maya Bay in Thailand, where it was filmed.

    You cannot recreate the lived experience, the serendipity, or connections that make a place alive.

    That’s why the idea of wiping out Sunset Beach in favour of a bunch of soulless hotels feels appalling. Meaningful places, whether for travel or in everyday life, are rarely manufactured. They are nurtured over time, by people, stories, and happenstance – so they need to be appreciated for what they are, in the moment.

    Because I stayed longer than anticipated, on my second to last day, I had to return to Saracen Bay to work. After another thirty minute walk across the island to Sunset Beach, I arrived once again at the uphill dirt track. But I wasn’t frustrated this time. I was energised. Because I knew, on the other side I’d be met with a cold lemonade and a slice of paradise.

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