12 articles

There are places in the world that make you feel whole, grounded, and deeply nourished, and there are places that quietly take from you, chipping away at the equilibrium you’ve worked to cultivate. It can feel as though the culture of a place seeps through your skin, shaping your energy and attitude before you’ve even noticed.

Sri Lanka is often painted as a tropical dream, with endless beaches, warm smiles, and jungle adventures. But beyond the postcard moments lies a raw and untamed beauty that asks you to slow down, adapt, and embrace its imperfections. This isn’t a trip that always runs to plan, and that’s where the magic begins.

Kuala Lumpur, a city that served as a stopover en route to Sri Lanka, could be the gateway to something extraordinary. A city where colonial architecture meets sleek skyscrapers, where incense drifts through ancient temples just blocks away from air-conditioned malls, and where the rhythm of a Southeast Asian metropolis pulses beneath every step.

Four months ago, I packed up my perfectly curated Melbourne life, placed it neatly into a 3x3 storage cage, and boarded a one-way flight. Since then, I’ve travelled through Bali, Vietnam, Cambodia, Kuala Lumpur, and Sri Lanka, with Thailand just around the corner.

There are places in the world that don’t just ask you to visit—they invite you to feel. Cambodia is one of those places. Thick with memory, gilded with devotion, and humming with life, it offers a kind of travel that moves beneath the surface. This isn’t a country for rushing through. It’s a country for pausing, listening, and letting the stories rise from the land itself.

I used to believe I was a good traveller. Curious. Kind. Conscious. But as I moved through the villages of Vietnam, past rice paddies, crumbling temples, food stalls, and families, I was forced to reckon with a quieter truth. I have always been a privileged traveller. And with that privilege comes a responsibility.

Hoi An is a soft dream. The Old Town is a perfectly preserved trading port that once connected East and West. Japanese, Chinese, French, and Vietnamese influences converge in the yellow-walled buildings and winding alleyways that glow with lantern light at dusk.

Da Nang is a city of contrasts, a place where modern bridges arc over dragon-shaped rivers, and sleek cafés sit beside ancient temples. Once a French colonial port, now a booming coastal hub, Da Nang offers both energy and ease for the slow traveler.

Tucked between the Bach Ma mountains and Lang Co Bay, Lap An Lagoon is a lesser-known marvel of central Vietnam. The brackish water reflects the sky like a mirror, especially at low tide when a narrow sand path emerges across the lagoon.

With grand plans of spending three months in Vietnam, we secured a 90-day visa, packed our lives into suitcases, and left the bliss of Bali for the cultural mosaic of Vietnam.

Hanoi is loud, fast and beautiful, but it can also be chaotic, overwhelming and, at times, a little stressful. There’s a price we travellers pay for seeking out the kind of energy that feels different from home. The rewards are rich, but they don’t come easily.

We’ve spent 12 days here in Vietnam so far, and it’s an exciting, stimulating place, full of contrast, colour, and sensory overload (especially as a vegan). Here's how we’d break it down into a 7-day itinerary for anyone wanting a curated yet immersive experience.