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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  • A beautiful bank holiday in Sydney’s Blue Mountains

    Plus a “work from home” day at the State library.

    I arrived in Australia at the end of April, when the temperature was in the low 20s. I’d always wanted to visit, but with over seven million square kilometres to choose from, planning a trip to this vast country requires a fair bit of thought.

    I only had ten days to spare this time, with a couple reserved for a new freelance project that had come my way. So I kept things simple, splitting my time between Sydney (New South Wales) and Melbourne (Victoria), close to where my friend – who I was visiting – now lives.

    Flying into Sydney from the lush jungles of Bali, I wasn’t particularly interested in spending time in the CBD (the city centre, basically). With a bank holiday approaching, my friend suggested we visit the Blue Mountains National Park instead.

    This is a dramatic sandstone landscape around 60km outside the city. Imagine a vast basin, ringed by cliffs, with deep valleys and rock formations throughout – a bit like an alien crop circle.

    The Blue Mountains is a rugged, World Heritage-listed region in New South Wales, Australia, located about 50 km west of Sydney

    Why is it blue, you ask? If you look closely at the distant trees, you can make out a faint blue haze caused by the eucalyptus leaves releasing oil into the air. It’s a beautiful place, and a fantastic location for hiking. Cue a 90-minute train ride from Sydney’s Central Station, and we found ourselves back in nature once again.

    There are a number of towns dotted around the park, including Katoomba (what a name!). This is the main town and administrative centre of the Blue Mountains. It doesn’t feel big, but there are plenty of cafés and restaurants – we even went to the cinema – and most importantly, the national park is easily accessible by public transport.

    We made this our base for two days, booking a four-bed room at the YHA Blue Mountains Katoomba.

    I must have stayed in around 50 hostels since my first solo trip in 2023, and I’m a huge advocate for them.

    YHA has a long heritage, and this one in particular housed a lot of families, which gave it a safe, cosy feel. There’s a large kitchen and movie room, books and games to borrow – and like most good hostels, the staff had encyclopaedic knowledge of the area.

    Becca doesn’t “hostel” much, and even she enjoyed it, especially given it cost us around £130 each in total for four nights.

    As for the mountains themselves, there’s a reason Tourism NSW uses them so heavily in its imagery. They’re unlike any mountain range I’ve seen before, with plenty of easily accessible walking routes, many of them fairly flat, offering sweeping views in all directions. More challenging hikes are available too, so pack plenty of food. Nothing beats eating your sandwiches perched on a cliff edge!

    We spent a couple of days navigating different trails, and on Becca’s recommendation, saved one morning to visit Scenic World. This cable-car attraction takes you down to the forest floor and across the famous Three Sisters rock formation, with views out towards Wentworth Falls.

    It’s a fun way to access parts of the landscape you don’t see from the clifftops alone. That said, locals flock here on bank holidays, so my main tip would be to book accommodation and attractions in advance, as everything was fully booked when we tried our luck on the first day.

    The good weather held for another day once we returned to Sydney, and after plenty of walking, we spent a glorious evening scoffing chips and watching the sun set behind the Sydney Opera House. I also made time to watch the wild waves rolling in at Bondi Beach.

    Wacky waves at Bondi Beach

    A day later, the heavens opened. I sought shelter in the State Library of New South Wales, tucked beside the Botanic Gardens (also worth a gander!) and got a solid chunk of work done for the week.

    After two months in Asia, this felt like a real change of pace – and having access to a desktop computer was a small luxury I didn’t take for granted. Sydney has some beautiful libraries (check out this blog post by The Rachellist if you happen to be in need of one). If you’re a remote worker like me, I’ll always advocate for libraries, and this one is particularly lovely.

    Seeking refuge from the rain at the State library of New South Wales

    Working while travelling might sound dull to some, but for me, visiting Australia was a reminder of how grateful I am to work remotely. Better still, freelancing means I’m not working every day.

    We’re lucky in the UK to have a decent annual leave allowance compared to some countries, but a ten-day trip to Australia would still have eaten up a third of it – and probably delayed my decision to come at all. Knowing I can (hopefully) return made the whole experience feel lighter, calmer, and far less rushed.

    Cooling off in Katoomba, the main town of the Blue Mountains

  • Questioning my depth at Bangkok’s Grand Palace

    Had I bitten off more than I could chew?

    On the third day of my first-ever trip to Asia – having started a new chapter as a “digital nomad” at 32 – I awoke full of adrenalin and ready to see some other ‘must sees’ on my list.

    Equipped with snacks from the 7/11 – a backpackers’ sanctuary – I headed out toward a local market, dodging traffic at every turn.

    Suddenly, whilst approaching a railway track, I noticed a curious sight. Tucked along either side were small houses beneath the Expressway, and people were crossing the tracks and disappearing from view. Where are they going? I wondered.

    As I ventured further, it became clear that the place was quietly teeming with life. To my left, a family was sitting down for a meal; to my right, a man was gutting fish. It was a tiny community, living in a traffic sandwich.

    Life must be loud for this community under the expressway

    A fish restaurant alongside the railway track

    Bangkok – home to 11.4m people – is not a place where wealth is equally distributed. To think they were wedged beneath the underpass like this, with cars and mopeds on all sides and trains cutting through (I presume), demonstrates how crammed with people it is.

    Visiting the flower market

    Eventually, I found myself at Pak Khlong Talat, the city’s primary flower market, tucked into the Wang Burapha Phirom subdistrict. Unlike the railway community, this one I found in Condé Nast. Because sometimes you need a little guidance!

    I went in the late afternoon and watched the vendors setting up while people drifted through. Spotting yellow flowers (marigolds) everywhere, a quick Google revealed that they’re closely associated with Buddhism and the late King.

    You’ll find references to the monarchy all over Bangkok, and it appears central to Thai life.

    I learned how to say good morning (“sawatdee kha”) and we had a little tête-à-tête in broken English, between lots of smiling and cooing at the dogs and cats – luckily there’s only one language for cute!

    Insiders say to visit the flower market at 3am

    Word has it, the best time to come here is in the middle of the night, when the freshest blooms arrive. But it’s a great place to cool off during the day.

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    China Town and Khao San Road

    Toward nightfall, I headed to Chinatown for some chow. What did I fancy? I asked myself manoeuvring down the stalls. Scorpions? Crickets? I was (sort of) tempted to try the edible insects but didn’t want to get sick straight away.

    Scorpions, anyone?

    I eventually settled on some Chinese chive cakes followed by some “kanom krok” – little coconut pancakes.

    Locusts aside, if you’re vegetarian, you’ll find some decent options here, even though Asia is generally a pretty meat-heavy place.

    Delicious veggie dumplings in China Town

    By this point, it was getting a little late. But Bangkok buzzes at all times. Do I want to go to Khao San Road? I pondered, between mouthfalls. For the uninitiated, this is a famous street in Bangkok, known for its thriving nightlife.

    I truly did not, but knew I’d regret not seeing it. It wasn’t far away, so I hopped into my first colourful – and probably overpriced – TukTuk by the market, for around £7.

    The ride itself was great fun. But the strip at Khao San – not for me. I’ve always preferred to watch the Inbetweeners from behind a screen, not as a lived experience, so this was a good early lesson in trusting my instincts.

    The throng of drunk bodies in the heat was overwhelming, and I took nothing from it, save cooling down in the breeze from the TukTuk.

    Ever impressed by the public transport in Bangkok, I spared my lungs the Grab bike this time (although I was getting hooked on them!), and caught a bus all the way home.

    Visiting the Grand Palace

    By the next day, I needed some greenery.

    Bangkok might look and seem like a concrete jungle, but a third of the city is parkland, and I’d vowed to visit Lumpini Park and Bang Kachao, the so-called ‘Green Lung’ of Bangkok, for a bike ride.

    Unable to postpone my ‘flexible’ flight ticket to Chiang Mai, however, I panicked and decided to visit Bangkok’s famous temples instead: Grand Palace, Wat Pho and / or Wat Arun.

    I really hate when tourist attractions are rammed down my throat, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the Grand Palace was a bit over-hyped. But I was in South East Asia, so it felt like an attraction I couldn’t miss.

    Wat did I think of them? It’s tricky. Religious Studies was my favourite subject at school, and I resonated strongly with the story and teachings of Buddhism. As a 15 year old, it was the first religion I’d encountered that didn’t seem to be predicated on power.

    I respect that they are culturally important and tried my best, in the heat, to take in the majesty of it all. But after a two hours, I was a little bored.

    Not just that, but – quite unsurprisingly – the place is hugely overcrowded. They don’t show you that on TikTok or Pinterest do they!

    Wat Pho is famous for the immense Reclining Buddha

    Reality check at the temples – they’re crowded!

    I wish I’d followed through with my first plan. Does this mean I lack depth? I thought with panic. Maybe. But who cares. Life’s short. There’s nothing wrong with chasing lizards in the park. They’re cool as hell!

    Monitor lizards roam the park and canal freely

    As a headache took hold, I learned my first lesson as a digital nomad: if I wanted to work and travel, I’d have to manage both my time and my energy levels properly. I was alone, in a foreign place, in a much hotter climate – that’s a lot to navigate on top of a job, and I hadn’t even got started yet.

    Sitting on the flight to Chiang Mai, clutching my carry on, I wondered – had I bitten off more than I could chew?

  • Hiding out in Hoi An, Vietnam: two months as a nomad in Asia 

    I finally take a spin on those coconut boats.

    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!

    For the authentic views – try Hub Hoi An

    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.

    For slow breakfasts and laptop hours – Nourish Eatery

    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).

    For escaping the hustle – The Inner Hoian

    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.

    For the best iced coffee – Hoian Roastery

    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!

  • 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.*

  • 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

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