The narrow alleys of Hanoi buzzed with the hum of scooters and the sizzle of street-side woks. I slung my backpack higher on my shoulder, weaving my way through the chaos with a practiced ease. The air was heavy with the scent of grilled meat, fresh herbs, and gasoline—a mix as intoxicating as it was overwhelming.
It was my first solo trip since becoming a father. Back home in India, my one-year-old son, Krishiv, was likely napping in the afternoon sun. I could almost hear his giggles, see his toothy grin as he crawled around the living room. That thought tugged at my heart, but I reminded myself why I was here. Vietnam’s vibrant landscapes and hidden corners promised not only adventure but clarity—a chance to recharge before returning to the whirlwind of diapers, lullabies, and midnight feedings.
I spent my first few nights in hostels, sharing cramped dorm rooms with strangers from every corner of the world. We traded stories over cups of steaming Vietnamese coffee, our laughter filling the communal spaces. I marveled at the simplicity of hostel life—no luxuries, just human connection.
In Phu Quoc, I hopped between islands on wooden boats painted in bright blues and reds. The turquoise waters sparkled under the sun, and I felt a rare lightness. On one secluded beach, I sat with my feet buried in the sand, wondering if Krishiv would one day play on shores like this.
Sailing through the Mekong Delta in Can Tho was like stepping into another world. Narrow waterways wound through lush greenery, and floating markets bustled with life. I shared a small boat with a local family, their laughter transcending language barriers. As we passed villages perched on stilts, I thought of the stories I’d tell Krishiv someday—of the people I met, the colors I saw, the food I tasted.
In Quang Binh, the adventure turned wild. I hiked through dense jungles to explore caves that felt like portals to another world, their towering stalactites and glittering underground rivers leaving me in awe. By the time I reached Ninh Binh, with its emerald-green rice paddies and karst mountains, I had almost forgotten the weight of my responsibilities back home.
But each time I caught my reflection—on the calm surface of a lake, in the glass of a shop window—I saw Krishiv’s face in my own.
The cities added their own flavors to the journey. Saigon’s chaotic energy pushed me out of my comfort zone, while Da Nang’s beaches gave me space to breathe. Hanoi, with its mix of tradition and modernity, left me endlessly curious. But in every bustling street, I carried the quiet thought of my son.
As the days passed, the pull of home grew stronger. The journey had awakened a part of me I’d thought was lost—my love for exploration, for connecting with the unfamiliar—but it had also deepened my understanding of what it meant to be a father. The history and culture of Hue (Imperial City) and Hoi An (Ancient city) also revealed the power of community and integrity and my prince waiting to walk my legacy!
Now, as I prepared to board a sleeper bus to my next destination, a video call from home lit up my phone. Krishiv’s chubby face filled the screen, his big brown eyes lighting up as he babbled incoherently. I laughed, a lump rising in my throat.
Before ending the call, my wife Moon’s face appeared, her tired but warm smile filling the frame. I paused, taking in her unwavering strength. She had held everything together—balancing Krishiv, the house, and her own life—so I could have this break, this chance to breathe and rediscover myself.
“Thank you, Moon,” I said softly. “For everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
She smiled back, her eyes glinting with quiet pride. “Just come back in one piece. We’re waiting for you.”
As the bus rumbled to life, I leaned back against the seat, my heart full of gratitude. This journey had been extraordinary, but it was Moon’s love and sacrifice that made it possible. The adventures, the sights, the connections—they were all incredible, but they had also reminded me of what mattered most: the life, the family, and the love waiting for me back home.
The trip started from Phu Quoc and moved towards north via ferry, roadways (bus and trains) and one flight from Ho Chi Minh to D Nang. I covered Can tho, Saigon, Da Nang, Hoi An, Hue, Dong Hoi, Ninh Binh and finally Hanoi before I fly back to Kolkata and then to Mumbai for 11 days. Few more pics here:
Deep, this blog post is amazing and really shows how thoughtfully observant you are. I love how you’ve connected travel with personal growth—it’s very inspiring. The photos are beautiful, especially that drone shot .. Looking forward to more stories and pictures from your journey. Srini