Discover Quy Nhon, Vietnam: beaches, bikes and food stalls galore

I pop on my flip-flops and head down the nautically painted stairs into the living area of the family who runs this homestay in Quy Nhon, central Vietnam. Their three-year-old daughter is crushing crackers with a chopstick. The oldest girl is doing her homework next to the check-in desk by the entryway. The boy is fearlessly practicing tricks on his bike out front in the crowded street.

I smile, offering the only small way I can communicate with these young kids. Then their mother walks in and asks me where I'm headed. I tell her I'm on a mission to find a good vegetarian meal. She knows the best place of course-- local, cheap, authentic, delicious she says.

Grab a helmet off the shelf. I'll take you there!

So that is how I ended up on the back of my host mom's motorbike, her three-year-old daughter named biển (meaning ocean) snuggled on her lap.

At the chay (vegetarian) restaurant I made my way to a display with a dozen plates of food, no menu, no English spoken. So I began smiling and pointing at various tofu stews, pumpkin, and noodles, quickly filling a large plate. This and a bowl of lukewarm soup with some mysteriously delicious clear-looking vegetables cost me $2.

I ate happily, listening to conversations in tones I'd never heard before two weeks ago. I sat sipping soup, listening to conversations in Vietnamese, trying to eat rice with chopsticks, and sweating of course-- even in the evening.

Full, I waved tạm biệt (goodbye) and began walking back to the homestay. Walking is a journey in itself in a country where sidewalks double as a spot for food carts, motorbike parking, racks of second-hand clothing, and all sorts of unfolding construction. Oh, and little silver fish set out to dry-- that was quite the surprise!

I marvel at how different the pace of life is here. How simple it seems.

Aside from the chaos of crossing streets of course. I somehow managed to weave through bikes and cars across an eight-lane intersection then found myself in a park plaza filled with little glowing lights. Turns out the lights came from about a hundred pairs of glow-in-the-dark rollerblades!

Kids of all ages zoomed around the plaza, doing twirls and rounding cones and giggling aloud. I was almost tempted to rent blades lined up on tarps at the park's edge, but I settled for watching the five-year-olds do their magic. How sweet to see kids playing so freely-- no barriers of signing waivers, paying high fees, or getting knee pads and helmets. Just...play.

I smiled countless times this evening. The cracker crushing, a tiny three-year-old helmet, fish in baskets on the street, roller blades sparkling blue and red and orange, slurping a mystery vegan soup... so many things are different here than what I've ever known.

It is enchanting and enlivening to see so how others live and to get to be a part of it for a bit.

Quy Nhon is a sweet beach town to visit if you are ever traveling across Vietnam. There are dozens of cute cafes, tons of street food, many great beaches, and mesmerizing surrounding fishing villages to explore.

Tomorrow I'll eat one more breakfast of mango sticky rice with yogurt at this lovely homestay, say goodbye to this town, and then I'll hop on an eight-hour bus south into the mountains.

From the wild ocean waves to the heart-expanding mountain greenery and all the beautiful connections with people along the way... I am so grateful for the many moments of rewilding and child-like play and wonder I have while traveling.

Cảm ơn việt nam! Thank you.

With love,

Ava//

Rewilding Child