I glimpsed people above me reaching the top, exclamations of surprise and wonder just barely reaching my ears—the sound of the steam was already deafening.

With one last push of energy, I made it up the final steps, greeted by an enormous black pit before me that hissed and thundered from the lava below. After two days of travel and just 1.5 hours of sleep, I’d arrived at Mount Bromo.

This mesmerizing volcano lives on the eastern end of the island of Java, the geographic and economic epicenter of Indonesia. Home to more than half of the Indonesian population, Java is a stunning island almost entirely of volcanic rock—but only one-third of the volcanoes are currently active.

Situated right next to the more well-known island of Bali, the majority of its inhabitants are Muslim and dominantly speak Javanese, in addition to the national language of Indonesian. Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, is located on the northwest coast of the island and is the largest city in the nation of islands. (Indonesia is made up of thirteen thousand islands!)

Java is quintessential Indonesia—it boasts major metropolitan cities, lush jungles, incredible volcanoes, tea plantations, and massive temples. While most tourists head to its popular neighbor Bali, Java has flown under the radar and maintained more Indonesian authenticity.

Here are five reasons to skip Bali on your next Southeast Asian adventure and visit Java, Indonesia instead:

1. There’s less tourism, commercialism, and crowds

Java feels like a quiet retreat compared to Bali. While the most frequented areas of Bali are filled with holidaying Australians, partying hipsters, and wealthy yogis, Java feels much more untouched.

As a Westerner in Java, you’re more of an anomaly than a fixture. You can stay in a hostel in a small village in the jungle and dine on delicious local cuisine, like nasi goreng (fried rice) and tempe goreng (fried tempeh)—for half the price of a dish in Bali.

You’re able to meet locals and experience what life is like in Indonesia apart from the influx of tourists on vacation. In a nutshell? You get to see the real Indonesia.

2. Four UNESCO world heritage sites are in Java, Indonesia

Even if you only visited one of these iconic UNESCO sites, it’d be worth the trip. Just north of Yogyakarta is Borobudur Temple, a massive 9th-century Buddhist temple that ranks with Cambodia’s Angkor Wat.

Borobudur is Indonesia’s single most visited tourist attraction, and popular for watching the sunrise. (Take a motorbike from Yogyakarta and get there early, as it tends to be crowded in the early morning hours.) Prambanan Temple is another popular one, the country’s largest Hindu temple compound that originally consisting of 240 temples.

Even if you don’t pay the entrance fee, you can wander the temples and ruins on the outskirts and still get a good feel for the magnitude of it.

Ujung Kulon National Park, located on the westernmost point of Java, is a stunning lowland rainforest that is the last known refuge for the endangered Javan rhinoceros and other threatened plants and species. The park includes the famous Krakatoa reserve, home to the most-studied volcanic eruption that killed 36,000 people in 1883.

Last but not least is Sangiran, an archaeological site located in central Java that is “recognized by scientists to be one of the most important sites in the world for studying fossil man,” according to a UNESCO report. Despite not being well-preserved when it was first discovered, Sangiran now boasts a modern museum.

3. It’s home to Mount Ijen and Mount Bromo

On the eastern side of Java are two of the most stunning volcanoes. Mount Bromo is a popular destination at sunrise, with the option to travel by Jeep to the top of Mount Penanjakan for an incredible view of the volcano. A pink sea of mist envelops the ground as the sun slowly rises, illuminating the billows of steam pouring out of Bromo below.

A bit further east is the Ijen volcano, known for its one-kilometer-wide turquoise-colored crater lake that’s home to a sulfur mining operation. Most popularly, a midnight two-hour hike leads visitors to the infamous “blue fire crater” to see the otherworldly ignited sulfuric gas.

4. Yogyakarta is a cultural hotspot

A highlight of Java, Indonesia is the city of Yogyakarta, or “Yogya” as it’s affectionately known.

Home to a multitude of colleges and universities, Yogya has a large student population and a rich tradition of arts and culture. Batik textiles, traditional cooking classes, Javanese dance, and its proximity to Borobudur and Prambanan temples make it a popular tourism destination, even offering some Western comforts like restaurants serving hamburgers and beer (alcohol is hard to come by in Java, as it’s a mostly Muslim island).

Yogya is the perfect place to wander aimlessly and stumble upon rambling alleyways, bustling markets, and ancient palaces.

5. The train system is a great way to see the island

Unlike Bali, Java’s reputable rail network is a reliable way to explore the 1000-kilometer island.

Away from the Westerners that flood Bali’s buses and ride-shares like Uber and Grab, train rides in Java are easy, comfortable, and affordable. All trains offer air conditioning, power outlets, and dining cars, making a tour of the countryside an enjoyable alternative to flights. (And tickets are easy to purchase.)

You can rumble through Java’s lush green rice fields peacefully, passing volcanoes and rural towns. Trains in Java connect all the major cities and tourist destinations, including Mount Bromo, and you can take a train from Jakarta in the far West all the way to Banyuwangi in the far East, the ferry terminal for Bali.

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While Bali is indeed a gorgeous island of Hindu culture, bohemian art, and deep spirituality, it sometimes steals the spotlight from its equally-as-impressive neighbor. An ancient epicenter of colonialism and resilience, Java, Indonesia deserves more praise—and perhaps a stop on your next Southeast Asia itinerary.

Suggested next reading: How To Go Rogue And See Southeast Asia By Motorbike

The post 5 Reasons To Skip Bali And Visit Java Instead appeared first on Modern Trekker.

From where I sat on the white sand beach of Tonsai Bay, the enormous blue sky above was reflected in the clear turquoise water below, punctuated by towering limestone crags. Behind me sat bamboo bungalows, karst cliffs, and dense rainforest, the area being a popular destination for backpackers and rock climbers. It was my first stop in the Thai islands and I couldn’t wait to see more.

While Tonsai Beach is technically part of the mainland, hundreds of islands dot the Andaman Sea and Gulf of Thailand along the Southern coast of this Southeast Asian hotspot.

Some of the larger islands are more well-known, like Koh Phi Phi’s Maya Bay made famous by the Hollywood hit film The Beach. Other islands fly under the radar, like Koh Muk, Koh Chang, and Koh Yao Yai. (Koh is the Thai word for “island.”)

While some destinations are overrun with tourists and only cater to those on luxury vacations, there’s no lack of options when it comes to the Thai islands—no matter which one you choose, they all resemble paradise.

There are endless places to visit in Thailand—Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Pai, Surat Thani—but the islands are not to be missed. Here are five reasons to visit them now:

1. The iconic beaches

You know the photos you see in travel magazines with white sand beaches, crystal clear water, leafy palm trees, and luxurious beachfront hotels? That’s Thailand. The beaches truly can’t be beaten.

With hundreds of islands, you could never tire from all the different ones to explore—you can experience bright colorful reefs on Koh Tao, bring the family on a holiday to Koh Samui, or chill at a reggae bar on Koh Lipe. Just make sure you don’t choose the wrong beach—some are definitely for partying, some are for peace and quiet.

Some beaches even have hidden lagoons or caves! Do a little research beforehand, or embrace a sense of adventure and see what you stumble upon.

2. The affordability

Sure, plenty of other places offer islands and beaches that are just as picturesque as the Thai islands, but are they quite as affordable? Part of Thailand’s appeal is how incredibly inexpensive it is.

While the Thai islands are definitely more pricey than the rest of Thailand and other Southeast Asian countries, they still offer a great deal. If backpacker hostels are your jam, you’ll only shell out about $11-$15 (USD) per night. Mid-range hotels can cost you about $50 per night, while a 5-star resort will still only set you back about $125 per night.

The ridiculously cheap Thai food also happens to be incredibly delicious, and alcoholic drinks are usually less than $6. (Mojito, anyone?) Combined with reasonable airfare from major international airports, the Thai islands are a perfect choice for those looking to rein in their vacation spending without compromising on luxury.

3. Diving and snorkeling

Thailand has some of the best snorkeling and scuba diving in the world, hands down. Visitors flock to the islands to get scuba certification and experience mesmerizing reefs, deep drop-offs, wrecks, walls, caverns, and tunnels. (The affordability of getting certified in Southeast Asia also draws in many looking to get certified.)

Adventurers can expect to see whale sharks, manta rays, leopard sharks, and more, and even if you’re on the cautious side and stick to the shallow reefs, you can still experience a colorful paradise that will make you feel like you’ve landed in a scene from Finding Nemo.

While all the islands boast beautiful spots, some of the best snorkeling and diving can be found on Koh Tao, Koh Lanta, and Khao Lak.

4, The sunsets

If the beaches, the affordability, and the underwater beauty don’t sway you, maybe the sunsets will.

With gorgeous geological backdrops no matter where you go, Thai islands are the perfect places to relax on the beach with a drink in hand and watch the sun go down. Choose a fancy resort or local beach bar, and you’ll join throngs of travelers reveling in the evening light, often with appetizer specials and happy hour drinks.

No matter the level of fanciness you choose, the vibrant sky won’t disappoint. Head to the Western side of any island for a memorable night.

5. The ability to party and/or relax

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No two Thai islands are the same, and some are actually incredibly different. These differences are what make the islands appeal to everyone, and offer something for every traveler.

Want to experience a Full Moon Party, the notorious all-night beach parties? Head to Haad Rin beach on Koh Phangan. (Half Moon parties exist, too.)

Looking for a quiet escape on a peaceful beach where you can relax on a beach lounge and sip from an ice cold coconut? Try Koh Samui or Koh Yao Noi.

Want the quintessential Thai experience with colorful longtail boats, friendly fishermen, and looming limestone cliffs? Railay Beach is what you’re looking for. (Not technically an island, but still a beautiful beach in the South.)

There’s truly something for everyone in Thailand.

Getting there

The Thai islands are easy to add to your must-see list. Fly into Bangkok from any major airport for the best price, and then take a smaller plane to Krabi or Phuket—these flights are usually less than $50. (Koh Samui is an option too, though considerably more expensive.) From there, ferries are available to nearby islands.

Be sure to check out the weather before booking tickets, though—rainy season is roughly from May to October.

The choices can be overwhelming, but don’t worry—no matter which island you choose, you’ll end up in paradise.

Suggested next reading: How To Eat Your Way Through Southeast Asia Like A Pro

The post 5 Brilliant Reasons To Visit The Thai Islands appeared first on Modern Trekker.

If this is your presumption, you wouldn’t be far off—Provence is certainly a magical corner of the world.

While most visitors head straight for Paris to see the Eiffel Tower and wander the Louvre, there are plenty of other destinations in France to consider. Just a few hours train ride from the capital city is the Provence region, located in the southeast bordering Italy and the Mediterranean Sea.

Here is an opportunity to slow down and get away from the hustle and grit of Paris, opting for things like lounging by the sea, drinking wine at a vineyard, and admiring the colorful countryside.

Thinking of making the Provence region your next getaway? Here are 7 reasons to visit:

1. Outdoor markets

You haven’t truly been to an outdoor market until you’ve meandered one in Provence. Markets here are mini-universes in and of themselves, enchanted worlds filled with vendors selling everything from sustainable garments to fresh produce, homemade soaps to artisan cheese. (So much cheese!)

In the small town of Uzès is what some may call the best market in the whole Provence region. Its Saturday market is huge, spreading across multiple streets and squares—truly the heartbeat of the town. As you begin to explore, the sunlight filters through the majestic leafy trees lining the road, the smell of lavender and fresh baguettes fill the air, and it feels as if it’s the only place that exists in the world.

Grab a fougasse (an herbed bread similar to focaccia) and try to convince yourself that you don’t need to buy one of everything in the local boulangerie (French for “bakery”).

On top of the plethora of things to purchase, the town itself invades your senses as well, distracting your eyes from the multitude of meat and cheese stalls and instead directing them to the gorgeous architecture looming up on either side of you.

Get there early, as the Uzès market is incredibly popular and fills up fast, making traffic and parking somewhat challenging.

2. Amazing architecture

Sure, Paris has the Eiffel tower and elegant wrought-iron balconies, but the Provence region has its own unique architectural delights. It’s filled with impressive sites dating back to the Roman Empire, medieval palaces and churches punctuating the countryside.

The Pont du Gard, a Roman aqueduct from the 1^st Century AD, is a feat of Roman engineering. It is the highest existing Roman aqueduct, sitting at 50 meters above the river.

The Maison Carrée in Nîmes is one of the best-preserved temples from the former Roman Empire, built 16/19 BC—and it remains intact today because it was converted into a Christian church in the 4^th Century AD.

Many castles and forts sit atop hills all over the region, such as in Les Baux-de-Provence, a village on a high rocky hilltop that was inhabited as early as 6000 BC.

On top of all that, there are the amphitheaters, or arenas. Arles, which was once the capital of Roman Provence, is home to the famous amphitheater built in the 1^st and 2^nd Centuries AD. It could hold 12,000 spectators, eager to watch gladiators battle.

3. Coastline

 

 

 

 

 

 

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One thing Paris doesn’t have? Miles of rich blue Mediterranean coastline. Imagine clear bright water below cliff-top villages, a mesmerizing scene of greens and blues.

Visit Paloma Beach in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, a half-private, half-private beach frequented by celebrities. Explore the seaside towns, lounge on a bright yellow beach bed, and be astounded that you’re in little old France.

4. Indulge in all the local cuisine

France is known for its never-ending supply of indulgent treats, and Provence is no exception. In addition to all the obvious French delicacies—croissants, dry sausage, paté, cheese, macarons, crepes—Provence itself has some local dishes that deserve to be tried.

Try bouillabaisse, a fish stew specific to Marseilles, or daube, a “poor man’s” beef stew.

You can’t go wrong with Provence’s most famous dish, ratatouille—a vegetable casserole made with tomatoes, onions, zucchini, eggplant, peppers, garlic and herbs. (It’s so famous it even had a Disney film named after it.)

For sweets, try calisson, the traditional candy of Aix-en-Provence since the 17^th Century, made from almond paste flavored with melon and orange preserves.

5. Explore the arts

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Vincent Van Gogh favored the small Provence town of Arles, and spent over a year there in the late 1800s. The Dutch painter had grown tired of life in Paris and pined for the sunshine and vibrant colors of Provence.

This was a hugely prolific time for Van Gogh, creating numerous works of art and developing a painting style known for its bold color and powerful brushstrokes. Some of his most important works were created here, such as “Bedroom in Arles,” “Café Terrace at Night,” and “Sunflowers.”

The success of Van Gogh, along with other notable artists who spent time in the Provence region such as Paul Cézanne, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, Marc Chagall, and Auguste Renoir, infused the area with creativity and a reverence for beauty that still exists today.

Check out the Musée Granet in Aix-en-Provence or the Fondation Vincent van Gogh in Arles. In Nice, visit Matisse’s personal home at the Musée Matisse or the Musée d’Art Moderne et d’Art Contemporain (MAMAC), enjoying a coffee on the terrace overlooking the city. There’s truly no lack of creative inspiration in Provence.

6. Wander tiny villages

The Provence region is brimming with endless villages, delightful little mazes of quaint streets, charming homes with terracotta rooftops, and picturesque shops. They’re easy to get lost in, and it’s one of the best ways to spend time in Provence.

Choose between seaside escapes, medieval squares, and tranquil towns amidst lavender fields. Try the cliff top village of Gordes and its incredible castle, the Mediterranean village of Seillans so steep that it’s only accessible by foot, or Porquerolles, boasting both a medieval center and scenic harbor.

7. See the lavender and sunflower fields

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Perhaps the most iconic of all the sights of Provence are its fields of lavender and sunflowers. You can’t visit the Provence region without passing by at least one, and they’re truly a must-see.

The “blue gold” is used for soaps, cosmetics, and even cuisine, while the sunflowers are harvested for their oil and seeds. The months between July and August are the best time to see both.

The best lavender destinations? Try Notre-Dame de Senanque, a Cistercian abbey in Gordes surrounded by acres of lavender, or the Valensole Lavender Festival. The best sunflower destinations? On the side of the road!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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For some of the best markets, architecture, cuisine, art, and countryside that France has to offer, don’t miss the Provence region.

Suggested next reading: 10 Beautiful Locations In The French Riviera Worthy Of Your Bucketlist

The post 7 Splendid Reasons To Visit The Provence Region Of France appeared first on Modern Trekker.

Until recently, tourists had virtually boycotted visiting the country, not wanting to support the military dictatorship. But after the NLD party won the 2012 election, visitors began entering the country again—and now 7.5 million arrivals are expected by 2020. While some advocacy groups still discourage tourism, others promote it as an effort to boost the economy and to avoid isolating Burma from the rest of the world. (“Burma” was the name used by the colonial British, and the military government changed it to “Myanmar” in 1989—both are used today.)

Since the country is relatively untouched by the Western world, now is the perfect time to visit Myanmar. Here are six reasons to go now:

1. See a country that’s off the beaten path.

While more and more tourists and backpackers have started to visit Myanmar, it’s still relatively unknown to many. While everyone else is hurrying to Thailand and Vietnam and the Philippines to zip line through jungles and lounge on beaches, why not get adventurous and visit a place where foreigners are still quite rare? You can really immerse yourself in the culture and have the opportunity to experience a place that’s not yet overrun by tourists and commercialism. Maybe someday flying into Yangon will be just as typical as flying into Bangkok, but for now, Myanmar is a virtual goldmine of untouched beauty and untapped potential. It’s a pretty special feeling to be a part of that. (Plus, you could brag about it to all your friends.)

2. Learn about the history of Myanmar.

Myanmar was once a powerful kingdom in Asia and became one of two main empires in mainland Southeast Asia (along with the Khmer Empire) in the 12^th Century. A series of invasions, collapses, and colonization followed, making for a complicated and tumultuous timeline. Modern-day Myanmar still sees its fair share of turmoil and strife—a brutal genocide taking place on the coast in the Rakhine State has ravaged the country since 2016. (See the end of this article for more.) To visit Myanmar,  to meet the people, and to witness the country up close turns out to be a great opportunity to expand your worldview and educate yourself on this incredible culture.

3. Support the economy.

Myanmar is one of the poorest countries in Southeast Asia, with a lack of good infrastructure and an educated workforce. As more and more nations try to strengthen ties and ease sanctions, the economy is expected to grow—and tourism plays a big part here. While there’s still some disagreement on whether or not tourism in Myanmar should be encouraged, using our foreign currencies to purchase delicious Burmese food, stunning gemstones, or local art can help the Burmese people. (And they have so much to offer.)

4. Witness Bagan (while it’s still there).

Bagan, an ancient city in central Myanmar, was once the capital of the powerful kingdom that would later unite all the regions to form modern-day Myanmar. Between the 11^th and 13^th Centuries, over 10,000 temples, pagodas, and monasteries were built in just 26 square miles, deeming the site reminiscent of Angkor Wat. This impressive sight is often viewed at sunrise on hilltops or in a hot air balloon, but is spectacular any time of day. Due to a multitude of earthquakes in the region, many structures have been demolished or damaged—at least 400 needed repairs following a 2016 earthquake struck. Sadly, local restoration hasn’t maintained the integrity of the buildings, which many believe is what prevents it from being named a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Despite any architectural anomalies, Bagan is an awe-inspiring area and shouldn’t be missed.

5. Visit Shwedagon pagoda in Yangon.

This magnificent gilded stupa in the city of Yangon is believed to be the most sacred Buddhist site you can see if you visit Myanmar. And even if you’ve seen many a temple in your lifetime, this one won’t fail to impress. Standing at nearly 100 meters (326 feet) tall, you can’t help but feel its magnitude and sacredness even as you drive or walk past. Shwedagon is believed to contain relics of four previous Buddhas, such as strands of hair. The main stupa is surrounded by numerous smaller temples, creating a magical maze of golden Buddhas and glittering spires and mirrored tiles. Monks and nuns bustle about as they meditate, worship, and care for the space, while visitors wander around barefoot, seemingly mesmerized. (Shoes are taken off at the entrance to the pagoda, as a sign of respect.) With a small entrance fee of just $8 USD, this Yangon destination is a must-see.

6. Get to know the people of Myanmar.

Southeast Asia is full of kind-hearted, open-minded locals—and Myanmar’s people might just win the prize in this category. Even if you’re the only Westerner around (which is very likely to happen, since tourism rates are so low), you’re bound to feel welcomed, respected, and safe. You can even ride a train alone in the middle of nowhere and still get smiles from strangers selling cups of noodles and colorful sodas. The Burmese people have endured so much, and still face incredible international and economic struggles—but their kindness and warmth shine through. You won’t find nicer people anywhere.

Visit Myanmar’s rich history, stunning landscapes, and friendly people, what are you waiting for?

(It’s worth mentioning here that Rohingya Muslims in Rakhine state are currently enduring a brutal genocide, attracting global attention and outcry. In August, the United Nations called for Myanmar’s military leaders to face genocide charges. Its Independent International Fact-finding Mission on Myanmar plans to deliver their findings to the UN Human Rights Council in September 2018. While this atrocity is not happening in main tourist destinations, it’s worth educating yourself about this refugee crisis before making any plans to visit Myanmar.)

Suggested next reading: Train Travel In Myanmar: What I Wish I’d Known

The post 6 Brilliant Reasons Why You Should Visit Myanmar Now appeared first on Modern Trekker.

Flexible, alternative lifestyles are becoming more and more common in 2018, especially among millennials. Cities all over the world are becoming digital nomad hotspots, tempting remote workers with things like low costs of living, easy-to-obtain visas, and plentiful wifi.

Chiang Mai has become one of those cities.

A beautiful mountain town in northern Thailand, Chiang Mai has recently seen a surge in its population of digital nomads. It’s been a popular destination among English teachers for years, but it’s now becoming especially popular among remote workers.

 

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Why are there so many digital nomads in Chiang Mai? Here are seven reasons:

1. A Low Cost of Living

Southeast Asia in general is an incredibly inexpensive place to live, and Thailand is no exception. Basic studio apartments are available to rent for as low as $150 USD/month, with luxury units still only around $800 USD/month. Month-to-month leases are common and spaces often come furnished. Mobile phone packages with unlimited data can run around $18 USD/month (in case you need to hotspot your phone) and wifi is abundant at nearly every coffee shop and restaurant. Local transportation is easy with songthaews (local pickup trucks converted into taxis with two benches fixed along the inside) and Grab, an Uber-like app. And the best expense? Food! You can get a mouth-watering local dish from a street vendor for as little as $1 USD. If you’re making a western salary, digital nomads in Chiang Mai can live like kings, easily.

2. Accessibility to Western Comforts

 

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While Chiang Mai is a city rich in Thai culture and history, it also boasts some familiar Western comforts to appease even the most reluctant of travelers. Thai malls are some of the best you’ll find (seriously, give one a visit and you’ll be pleasantly surprised) with amazing food courts, well-known clothing shops, and plenty of services like mobile phone retailers. Western-influenced neighborhoods attract plenty of foreigners, making them a bit more expensive but with many comforts of home, like American grocery stores, European restaurants, and trendy cafés. The Nimmanhaemin Road area is especially popular.

3. Good Infrastructure and WiFi

Chiang Mai is renowned for the ease it provides remote workers. Traveling within Thailand is easy, with major airport hubs in Chiang Mai and Bangkok. In fact, Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi international airport is the ninth busiest airport in Asia, offering cheaper tickets and more accessible flights. (And flights between Chiang Mai and Bangkok are dirt cheap.) Internet is plentiful in Chiang Mai, with most coffee shops and restaurants happily offering free wifi. Coworking spaces are common, offering affordable daily and monthly rates—some host fun informational talks and meetups so you can network and get to know other digital nomads in Chiang Mai. In general, Chiang Mai is an incredibly easy city to settle into and work from comfortably.

 

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4. Stunning Landscape and Temples

Chiang Mai is bordered to the west by Doi Suthep, one of the twin peaks of Doi Suthep-Pui National Park. You can grab beers from 7-Eleven and sit on a rooftop or balcony (both of which are common in apartment buildings in CM) to watch the sunset behind the mountain, which never gets old. Dotted throughout the city are over 300 ancient temples, anomalies amidst the modern shops and cafés. Strolling through the streets of Old Town, it’s impossible to avoid stumbling upon a majestic temple, and for a nominal fee you can enter and wander the grounds. (Usually the equivalent of $3 USD—but make sure you’re dressed appropriately.) And sitting at the top of Doi Suthep is Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, a Buddhist monastery from the 14^th Century offering incredible views of the city below. No matter where you look, there’s always so much beauty on offer for digital nomads in Chiang Mai.

 

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5. A Plethora of Outdoor Activities

There’s also no lack of things to do outside in Chiang Mai. Feel like climbing waterfalls? Swimming in a reservoir? Hiking up a mountain in a national park? All of these are possible in CM! Sticky Waterfalls, Huay Tung Tao, and Doi Inthanon National Park are all within a day’s drive. Jungle trekking, zip lining, and mountain biking are also available, proving you’ll never be bored in Chiang Mai. (Check out a full list of ideas here.)

6. The Kindness of the Thai People

Perhaps another reason why so many people stay in Chiang Mai long-term is the Thai people themselves. In general, they are welcoming, gracious, and kind. Even if they only speak a bit of English, they’ll go out of their way to try to talk to you and learn about you. Rather than seeing foreigners as an imposition, they’re usually eager to practice English and tell you about their country, which they take so much pride in. They certainly help you feel at home in Thailand, even if it’s a temporary home.

7. Incredible Food

Saved the best for last! Because not only do digital nomads in Chiang Mai live like kings, they eat like kings, too. Noodle soups, chicken and rice, fruit shakes, curries galore—it’s all so good. Ingredients are fresh and family recipes abound. Most food is served street-style, cooked up right in front of you on a cart on the curb. The popular dish local to northern Thailand is khao soi, a coconut and curry noodle soup usually served with chicken, pork, or beef. It’s topped with crunchy fried noodles, and spicy pickled mustard root, shallots, and lime wedges are served on the side. Food just doesn’t get any better than Thai food in Chiang Mai.

There you have it. Chiang Mai is a little spot of heaven amidst Southeast Asia. Is it really any wonder why there are so many digital nomads in Chiang Mai?

Suggested next reading: 7 Wonderful Things To Do In Chiang Mai

The post 7 Legit Reasons Why Digital Nomads Are Flocking To Chiang Mai appeared first on Modern Trekker.

My train was departing from Bagan, where I’d spent two days exploring its thousands of temples and pagodas that dot the green countryside. I was traveling solo and heading for Mandalay, the second largest city in the country and its last royal capital. I planned to arrive that afternoon and take a flight back to Thailand that evening, where I’d been living as a digital nomad for the past month. I didn’t know much about train travel in Myanmar, but was up for an adventure and decided to give it a try.

Oh, how I wish I’d known what I was in for.

The Truth About Train Travel In Myanmar

I had my first inkling that I might have been in over my head when my driver dropped me off at the station saying, “You are crazy! You are going to have real problems, my friend.” And then he drove away, laughing.

It was too late to turn back, so I walked into the station and found my platform. My ticket was scrawled in handwriting on a crumpled piece of thin paper, left at my hostel reception desk for me the day before. After some research on train travel in Myanmar, I’d chosen The Man in Seat Sixty-One to book it, and was really happy with their service. (They’re a pretty reputable site for booking travel tickets through third-party companies all over the world.)

It was before seven in the morning, and the station was quiet. I was the only woman around, and certainly the only Westerner. When my train arrived, a kind older man helped show me how to find my seat. It seemed like a pretty decent train at first glance, but I soon realized that my satisfaction was a little premature.

I’d tried to do some research on train travel in Myanmar before my trip, and didn’t find very much. I did find a lot about the well-known Goteik Viaduct, the railway bridge frequented by backpackers with selfie sticks out the train windows. Unfortunately, my ride was going nowhere near the popular tourist spots, and I was a bit disappointed.

The rail system in Myanmar is much less developed than in other Southeast Asian countries like Thailand and Vietnam. It was built in the late 19^th Century under British colonial rule, and seemed like it hadn’t had any upgrades since then—I felt like I could have landed on a train in the early 1900s. The lower-class seats were nothing more than hard wooden benches, and my seat, in second class, looked like a bench seat out of a bus. It was covered in a dirty green fabric that didn’t quite fit, and I was afraid to look underneath.

There were only a handful of people in my carriage for most of the ride, and after staying in hostels for the past few days, I was excited to have space to myself. I planned to read and listen to podcasts and maybe even write in my journal.

Then the train started.

Ratty Hair & Ratty Mice

It quickly became clear that I wouldn’t be doing any writing, and we certainly weren’t going to arrive anytime soon. The train lurched from side to side as if a ship in a storm. It crawled along painstakingly slowly—I think a bicycle might have been faster. The deafening chug-chug-chug noise was straight out a children’s movie, punctuated every few minutes by a whistle that always made me jump. I had to brace myself with my feet on the seat in front of me, arms on the armrests, gripping tightly. My hair in the back became a knotted, ratty mess against my seat as a result of train’s constant jerking from side to side. At one point, a few mice ran about under the seats, scurrying up into the seat cushions. My strong phobia of rodents had me trying not to hyperventilate, but no one else seemed to mind.

It was only one hour in. I already couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Beyond the discomfort of the train though, the ride itself was actually incredibly beautiful. We rumbled past lush, verdant fields dotted with palm trees and cows and the occasional farmer—the immense green of Myanmar is simply stunning. I felt acutely aware of the fact that I was seeing a part of the country that most people don’t see, and I was so excited every time we passed a group of children or a simple village. The sun was shining brightly, the heat was bearable, and everyone we passed seemed happy.

In fact, the people of Myanmar are what made my visit the most worthwhile. Every person I came across was smiling—quite literally. Trains carrying passengers in the other direction were always full of smiling faces and the townspeople gathered at the stations along the way waved to me happily. People that passed by my seat made eye contact and nodded kindly. I got the impression that it was uncommon to see a Westerner on a train in the middle of nowhere in Myanmar, and yet I never felt unsafe or out of place. I felt accepted and welcomed, and I’ll never forget that feeling.

The train eventually—finally—made its way to Mandalay, and I was mostly just excited to use the restroom. (I didn’t want to get dehydrated, but I also really wanted to avoid using the bathroom on the train, so I rationed my water and held it for the eight-plus hours!) Because of the delay, I needed to get right into a taxi and head for the airport, disappointed in missing the sights of the city. Comfortably seated in the air-conditioned cab, I could feel my muscles relaxing and recovering from the stress of the journey.

I knew train travel in Myanmar would be an adventure. I didn’t book it expecting comfort or peace or ease—I booked it to experience another side of this country I knew so little about. While I wish I had gone in with a little more awareness of just how uncomfortable the ride would be, I felt so grateful for just being able to witness Myanmar’s remote countryside and incredibly kind people.

It’s an experience I’ll never forget.

Suggested next reading: How To Go Rogue And See Southeast Asia By Motorbike

The post Train Travel In Myanmar: What I Wish I’d Known appeared first on Modern Trekker.

Flies buzz and birds call lazily as the boatful of tourists makes its way down the Mekong River, a popular way to travel through Laos. Backpackers through Southeast Asia quickly learn the most established routes—which direction to travel, which stops to make, how long to spend in each locale. And when you’re traveling from northern Thailand into Laos, there’s one method of transport that has gained quite a reputation for itself.

It’s the boat trip along the Mekong River from Chiang Rai to Luang Prabang, affectionately called “The Slow Boat to Laos.”

And slow it is.

A Different Way To Travel

As a backpacker myself in northern Thailand two years ago, I chose the slow boat route as a means to go from Thailand to Laos, my next Southeast Asian destination. So many people I’d met in my hostel recommended it, and it seemed like an adventure I was eager to experience. After a bit of research, I purchased a ticket from my hostel with two newfound-friends and hopped on a bus from Chiang Mai to Chiang Rai.

The two-day trip begins in Chiang Rai, in far northern Thailand. A minibus takes you to the border of Laos, where we spent a night in a questionable guesthouse with lizards invading our rooms and a very apparent lack of shops nearby. (Stock up on snacks and supplies before reaching the border!) To cross into Laos, we needed multiple passport photos that met their specific criteria and which our Thai guide helped us procure. After a slightly strange and very expensive photo shoot in the lobby of the hotel, he made sure we had everything we needed and left us.

That morning we were up early to get to the boat, and from the guest house rooftop in the early light of day, I first set eyes on the Mekong River—and fell in love with Laos.

Mist shrouded the surface of the river and empty boats swayed in the little waves lapping at the shore. The few nearby houses were eerily silent and the mountains beyond were cast in shades of purple and blue and gray. Before the chaos of the day began, I breathed in deeply and wanted to remember Laos this way—wild, peaceful, and free.

Another minivan picked us up at our hotel and brought us to our boat, docked not far away in a bustling little port. Shops selling chips and sodas and cups of instant noodles were busy with tourists hurrying to acquire snacks before the trip, and we joined the masses before climbing aboard.

I’ve been on many boats in my life, but none were quite like the slow boat to Laos.

This wooden boat was long and low, with open windows and musty old curtains tied to the sides. There were far too many seats crammed in, ripped and dirty, very clearly old bucket seats like the kind you’d find in a minivan. A few life jackets dotted the sides, and I wondered if there were enough for everyone on board.

So Far, So Good

At first the ride seemed fine, pleasant even, and I relished floating along the calm water, watching the children playing at the shore, spotting the cows wandering the beaches. But after a few hours, I couldn’t avoid the bathroom anymore and tried my luck—I found a filthy squat toilet in a tiny room at the back of the boat, liquids sloshing around and the need to hold onto the walls to keep myself upright. I survived, but as the trip went on the heat set in, the flies swarmed, the engine roared on, and I wished to be anywhere but on that slow boat to Laos.

Our first day ended soon enough, and we made our way to the little town of Pak Beng for our overnight stop. Before we arrived though, workers on the boat rushed to every guest asking if they had accommodation for the night, quoting ridiculously expensive rates for guesthouses owned by friends of theirs. Despite not having a room booked yet (the agency we booked through said we could arrange it when we got there), we felt wary of these offers and repeated our answer of no over and over again.

Of course, this turned out to be a mistake.

It seemed that somehow everyone else had already booked accommodation, and we realized that maybe we should have taken those offers on the boat, sketchy as they seemed. Hotel after hotel was booked solid, with nothing to offer us. We trudged up hills with our big backpacks growing more and more hopeless until we finally found one tiny room at an even higher rate than had been quoted to us on the boat. Desperate, we took it.

That night locals welcomed us to town at the local bar, decorated with Bob Marley paraphernalia and glowing green lights. Rum buckets and smokers were plentiful, and the night culminated with the biggest thunderstorm I’ve ever seen. Rain poured down in sheets and lightning flashed overhead as we ran back to our guest house, soaked and happy.

The Slow Boat To Laos: Round Two

The next morning we’d been told to arrive at the boat early to ensure a seat, which we didn’t understand. But thankfully we did—because this boat was significantly smaller than the previous day’s, and the same amount of people needed to fit aboard. We scrambled to find three of the last empty seats and watched as the unlucky latecomers had to sit on their bags in the engine room, stuck in the hot sun at the back of the boat with the engine roaring just next to them. I felt grateful for my seat in the shade, and also angry that the owners of the boat could subject guests with paid-for tickets to such a difficult 8-hour ride.

That day proved to be a challenging one. A few hours in, I woke from a fitful sleep to the boat lurching and a big commotion—passengers screaming and locals hurrying to put on life jackets. As it turned out, the boat was caught in a rapid, and we came close to capsizing. Drivers were turning the wheel furiously (à la Titanic!) and there was real panic in the air. Luckily we didn’t capsize, but by then we were all ready to be done with this terrible boat ride.

Later that day, we arrived in Luang Prabang and there was a rush to get off the boat—everyone couldn’t get off fast enough. We walked into the steamy city without looking back, and were excited to explore Laos on solid ground.

Was it a beautiful, adventurous way to travel from Thailand to Laos? Yes. Would I ever take the slow boat to Laos again? No way.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing for me, but I’m glad I experienced it. Taking the slow boat to Laos is a gorgeous way to get off the beaten track, see the Mekong up close, and meet locals. If you want to try it too, here’s what I’d recommend.

Do:

• Be careful with your luggage. Drivers have been known to steal from the bags, so keep any valuables with you in your seat.
• Always keep receipts as you go. This is a good suggestion for any Southeast Asia travel, but especially when you have a multi-leg trip it’s important to have proof that you’ve paid at every turn.
• Bring your own drinks and snacks aboard—they’re available for purchase on the boat, but at a much higher price.
• Dress for the hot weather. Consider bringing a paper fan or battery-operated one. It is HOT on that boat.

Don’t:

• Listen to just one person’s advice about taking the slow boat to Laos. Do your research, ask around at your hostel or guest house, and make the most informed decision you can.
• Exchange all your money to Laos Kip. You’ll need U.S. dollars to buy a visa no matter which country you’re from.
• Take your time getting to the boat. Early is always better.
• Be afraid of traveling solo! There are so many people traveling alone and it’s easy to meet plenty of people who you’ll probably continue to see as you travel through Laos.

Suggested next reading: Going To Vietnam? Don’t Miss This Essential Travel Hack

The post Taking The Slow Boat To Laos: Everything You Need To Know appeared first on Modern Trekker.

It’s called Hang Toi, or Dark Cave—and rightly so. With no artificial lights inside, it is simply six kilometers of pitch blackness. Instead of the usual limestone, it’s made mostly of basalt, a black volcanic rock, furthering the dark interior. First discovered in 1990, it’s the most popular tourist spot in Phong Nha-Ke Bang National Park. The area has hundreds of cave systems, but this is one you won’t want to miss. (Only if you’re up for an adventure, that is.)

Once you’ve paid the 450,000 VND entrance fee (about 20 USD), you get geared up. Personal items go into a locker, and the key is strapped to your arm. Wearing minimal clothes—you’re about to get muddy!—you climb a set of stairs to the top of a tower, where a park employee helps you into a harness and a hard hat.

Oh yes, this is more than just a visit to a cave.

A 400-meter zip line—the longest in Vietnam—deposits you just outside the cave entrance. The stunning blue-green water of the Chay River welcomes you in as you make the short swim to the opposite bank. Adrenaline pumps and eyes adjust as you enter the cool darkness.

Headlamps get switched on as a tour guide leads the group in, slowly and cautiously. With no artificial lights inside like most local caves, Dark Cave requires careful steps and a critical awareness. After a while, a large landing appears and the group takes a break to learn about the history of the cave. (While those with waterproof cameras or GoPros inevitably take selfies.)

Deeper and deeper the group descends. The darkness feels thick and impenetrable, and yet the lights from each person’s hard hats pave the way. The hard, dusty ground grows softer and softer the further in you go until the feeling of mud beneath your feet becomes impossible to ignore. The clay walls once solid and firm beneath grasping hands become slimy and gooey, and finally, you’ve arrived at the mud pit.

And this isn’t ordinary mud. This mud is buoyant.

What looks like melting chocolate ice cream is actually the consistency of a thick, creamy milkshake, and you cannot sink. Try as you might, you’ll hardly be able to put your feet down at the bottom, and everywhere you look people will be flopping down on the backs, only to appear to land in a jiggly, dark Jell-O. Even sitting down hard will make you feel as if you’ve landed on an invisible beanbag beneath the mud’s surface. Laughs and incredulous gasps will ring out as everyone becomes covered in a thick, sloppy mess, communally. It’s quite literally an underground mud bath, and your skin will thank you.

A post shared by Phongnha Discovery (@phongnha_discovery) on Apr 27, 2018 at 4:31am PDT

Pro tip: don’t wear anything light-colored, as it will inevitably be stained forever. And if you don’t want your bathing suit to smell forever, make sure to wash it straight after!

Finally, the tour guide convinces everyone to part ways with the mud, and the group jumps into the pitch black river that snakes its way through the cave, trying to rinse the far-reaching mud. The guide tells everyone to turn off their headlamps, and with a mix of hesitation and excitement everyone obeys, and suddenly you’re swimming through a river in a cave in total darkness. The group begrudgingly leaves the water and heads back towards the entrance, this time along a different route. What was once a straightforward walk through the cave becomes an obstacle course not for the weak of heart.

With the guide nonchalantly heading up the group, you’re led through passageways that become narrower and narrower, until finally, you come to caverns so small they require an army crawl flat on your belly. (This is when those hard hats come in handy!) Deep breaths and closed eyes get the most hesitant explorers through, and seeing the faint light from the cave entrance ahead invites a sigh of relief.

Finally, the group makes it back out and marvels at the wonder they’ve just experienced. Eyes must adjust once again, the sunlight feeling blinding. Shouts ring out as the next group begins to arrive via zip line, everyone chatty and excited about what’s to come.

A post shared by Thủy Trần (@l.thuytran) on May 3, 2018 at 8:54am PDT

The tour guide then shuttles everyone into kayaks, two to a boat, and the short distance back to the start is covered quickly. The adventure doesn’t end here though—Dark Cave is known not only for its cave but its water adventure sports as well. Another zipline looms over the sparkling water, this time with the option of releasing yourself into the river. Swing until the line stops, let go, and let the cool, crisp water wash over you. After trekking, crawling and shimmying through a cave full of mud, it’s impossible to decline. Groups do it over and over again until they’re finally spent, and head to the on-site restaurant to recover with some snacks and cold drinks.

The camaraderie that’s felt while experiencing Dark Cave makes it more than just a Vietnamese adventure. Southeast Asia has thousands of caves, and yet this one is special—visitors are literally underground in the middle of a jungle, covered in a thick brown mud, enveloped in pitch black air, amidst pitch black rocks. Everyone has to stick together, going at the same pace, and when the most claustrophobic of the bunch wants to turn back rather than crawl through an impossibly-small crevice, the group stops to urge them on. (Once you’ve laughed through an underground mud bath with strangers at the end of a cave in Vietnam, can you really be considered strangers anymore?)

You’ll see endless YouTube videos from adventurers that seem more like a creepy horror film than travel vlog, and once you’ve been through Dark Cave, you’ll understand why.

This is one cave you have to see to believe.

Suggested next reading: Hiking Into The Clouds With The Hill Tribes Of Northern Vietnam

The post The Unbelievable Mud Cave In Vietnam You Have To See To Believe appeared first on Modern Trekker.

Welcome to the “Red Center” of Australia, the extraordinary desert smack in the middle of the country, the ancient heart of the continent. It is the home of the traditional indigenous landowners, boasting some of the most spectacular sunrises and sunsets you’ll ever see, and Uluru, the sandstone monolith rising from the middle of the Northern Territory and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

And just beyond Uluru itself is the incredible installation Field of Light, designed by internationally acclaimed artist Bruce Munro. As the light fades and Uluru’s silhouette is cast against the purple sky, the exhibition comes to life. In the local Pitjantjatjara language, it is called “Tili Wiru Tjuta Nyakutjaku,” or “looking at lots of beautiful lights.”

A post shared by Australia (@australia) on Aug 9, 2017 at 11:06pm PDT

The installation’s shuttle bus picks up visitors at three different departure times throughout the evening, rumbling quietly through the remote desert landscape to the site. Upon arrival, the vastness of the pitch dark surrounding you feels almost stifling, as if the inky black sky couldn’t possibly get any blacker. Event guides greet you as you disembark from the bus, their stark flashlights feeling harsh amidst the natural landscape.

The group walks quietly through the bush until you start to see dots of glowing light ahead, as you quicken your pace to see more. Slowly, an anomaly amidst the dusty desert unfolds before you, and you have to stop to make sure you’re not imagining it. 50,000 solar powered globes come to light in a “garden” spanning the size of seven football fields. Their stems bend slightly in the hot night air, frosted spheres glowing blue, purple, ochre, and soft white as the sky above them darkens. Visitors stop to take photos before entering, the more advanced photographers setting up tripods and getting stunning time-lapse shots. It feels almost wrong to enter the installation; as if stepping inside might ruin the beauty of it all, and swallow you up whole.

Pathways draw visitors into the “fantasy garden” to explore at their own pace, guiding you along the winding paths through fields of psychedelic blooms. Shuttle buses depart the exhibition every two hours, giving visitors plenty of time to get lost amidst the lights. And lose yourself you will, as you wander further and further from the entrance deeper into the desert. Punctuated by small trees and benches for the occasional rest, the fields of solar powered globes feel almost trippy to gaze into. Before you know it, you’ve made your way back to the start, and will probably want to wander through again.

A post shared by Explore Uluru (@exploreuluru) on Nov 6, 2017 at 1:05am PST

Field of Light is British artist Bruce Munro’s largest installation to date, and his first work that is entirely solar powered. “Field of Light was one idea that landed in my sketchbook and kept on nagging at me to be done,” he says. “I saw in my mind a landscape of illuminated stems that, like dormant seeds in a dry desert, quietly wait until darkness falls, under a blazing blanket of southern stars, to bloom with gentle rhythms of light”. He first conceived of the idea during a visit to Uluru in 1992, after living in Australia for eight years. His work uses light to evoke an emotional response, often in an outdoor setting and on a grand scale. Other “Field of Light” installations had taken place in England, the U.S.A., Scotland, and Mexico, before finally being created in Australia, the birthplace of its inspiration.

Once you’ve sufficiently wandered the exhibition and feel ready to drag yourself from its ethereal grip, make your way back to the shuttle bus location, taking in one last drink of the night sky sprinkled with stars—the kind you only see with the lack of light pollution that exists in the middle of a remote desert. Stepping into the cool air of the bus feels like a shock after the hot desert air, and the bus slowly fills with passengers similarly aglow in the aftermath of such an otherworldly experience.

A post shared by Denis Kopylov (@denisom) on Jul 11, 2018 at 7:19am PDT

Ayers Rock Resort, the host organization for the installation, offers a number of other Field of Light experiences as well, for those who want more than just a wander. The “Field of Light Star Pass” includes a panoramic view of the lights from atop a nearby dune, with an introduction to the exhibition before sunset, Outback-style appetizers, and drinks. “A Night at Field of Light” features the award-winning “Sounds of Silence” dinner, a three-course meal set under the desert sky while a resident “star talker” explains the southern night sky. Prefer the sunrise to sunset? Choose “Sunrise Field of Light” to explore the installation in the pre-dawn silence. Additionally, almost all of these options include an upgrade to the “Pass by Camel,” first bringing you to the Uluru Camel Farm where you can get a ride from a friendly camel to the installation. (Camels were originally brought to Australia in the 19^th Century from Britain and Afghanistan to help with transportation and construction as western Australia was colonized, eventually being released into the wild after being replaced by motorized vehicles.) For those looking for a really mesmerizing Uluru experience, “A Night at Field of Light by Heli” offers the ultimate experience: installation entrance, “Sounds of Silence” dinner, and a half hour aerial helicopter tour.

No matter which ticket you choose, it’s important to note that Field of Light has been installed on indigenous land, and the Anangu people are the traditional owners and guardians of the National Park. (The land was handed back over to the Anangu people in 1985, and they then signed an agreement leasing the land to the Director of National Parks.) It is considered sacred to the traditional owners, and they invite visitors to hear stories of their ancient land—a visit to the Cultural Centre is free.

Field of Light has been extended until December 2020. Can’t make it to the middle of the desert in Australia? Well, this video is the next best thing:

Suggested next reading: Belgium’s Best Kept Secret Is Jaw-Droppingly Pretty

The post Australia’s Must-See Art Installation In The Middle Of The Outback appeared first on Modern Trekker.

Then I discovered Vietnam.

The little I knew of the country was tinged with my even-lesser knowledge of the Vietnam War, envisioning war-torn cities and landmines at every step. Once I started doing some research, I learned how very mistaken I was about the rich history and culture of Vietnam.

What clinched my decision to choose Vietnam was when I stumbled upon a travel article about Sa Pa, the quiet mountain town near the Chinese border famous for its lush green rice terraces and mind-blowing trekking opportunities. I soaked up image after image of rolling emerald hills, beautiful tribespeople, misty mountaintops—and a few months later, found myself with a crowd of tourists spilling out of a night bus in that very mountain town.

I had landed in Hanoi for my teaching job a week earlier and before it began, I started exploring earnestly. With a few new friends I met on a hostel walking tour, I took an overnight bus from Hanoi, which seemed fine until we got to our last leg, the steepest part of the drive. A thunderstorm raged outside, and while it seemed that all of the other people on the bus were somehow sleeping soundly and oblivious to our surroundings, I was wide awake. Lightning temporarily lit up the landscape outside my dark window, illuminating craggy summits and muddy hillsides. The bus wound its way higher and higher, climbing a series of switchbacks that had me fearing for my life. Between the sheets of rain, the blindingly bright lightning, and the incredibly foreign landscape, I felt as if I must still be asleep. 4AM finally arrived, and we piled out.

After a breakfast of instant coffee and fried noodles at a nearby restaurant that must have been accustomed to serving half-asleep tourists fresh off the night bus, we assembled at the hotel to meet with our guide. I looked out bleary-eyed over the mountains shrouded in early-morning fog and, for the first time since arriving in Vietnam, took a deep breath of fresh, clean air. It was a chilly Monday morning, and I was acutely aware of the fact that this was not my daily office scene.

Quickly, we were surrounded by local women in colorful head scarves and wraps, carrying their wares in woven baskets strapped to their backs, asking us questions like where we came from and how old we were. (Almost always followed with a “So young!” no matter what age we told them.) We soon realized they’d be hiking with us, accompanying us and offering their help, asking us to buy souvenirs from them at the end of our trip in return.

I couldn’t help but notice how wet and muddy everything around us was, on account of the night’s epic thunderstorm and it being rainy season in general. We’d travel for two days on vertical inclines and declines while mucking about in…sludge? We’d climb these mountains that looked like literal mudslides?

Oh yes. Yes, we would.

Our trek began in Sa Pa’s downtown and seemed easy enough at first. We slid our way down a series of hills and when they finally leveled out, it seemed like we were in another world. In the valley, the sun was shining and the verdant fields were glistening. Everything was coming to life: water buffalo grazed, birds sang, children’s calls rang out. I wanted to just sit and take it all in, but we continued on.

Eventually the trek would become more difficult. After a few hours, layers of clothing had been peeled off and we were covered in mud. At every decline, one or two of us would inevitably slip and fall flat on our bottoms, which we initially found funny before it started to feel actually painful. We wore sneakers and hiking gear and made sure we carried enough water—meanwhile, the women guiding us were wearing traditional dresses and plastic sandals, their breathing hardly labored. I stared at them incredulously while we stopped for a drink in the shade.

I’d later learn that these women did this every single day. They met tour groups in Sa Pa and then trekked with them for the whole day, showcasing their products when we stopped at the end of the day for dinner in a remote village. Often, a woman would offer help to one or two tourists specifically, and then target them for sales using their unwavering support as evidence that they deserve the business. Shopping in Vietnam can be quite a pushy business, and this was no exception. If you wanted to eat in peace, you’d better buy something. I came away with a few bracelets and the thought that the income from a few measly trinkets (however beautifully made) could not possibly be worth an entire day’s work.

As it turns out, it can. While we would continue on, the women would turn around and go straight back the way we came, along the steep path that had my knees aching and lungs feeling like they were giving out. And then they’d do it all over again the next day. Unbelievable.

Our group continued on again after our meal, heading towards the tiny remote village where we’d sleep for the night. I dreamed of finally lying down, not asking how much further we had to go out of fear that it’d be longer than I expected. I was admittedly very out of shape, and I was ready to be done hiking and arrive at our homestay.

I’d read amazing things about homestays in Sa Pa, warm families inviting you in and sitting around the table with you over homemade rice wine (that tastes like rubbing alcohol) and broken conversation bridging cultural divides. It sounded like an incredible exchange and the opportunity of a lifetime.

Unfortunately, my experience didn’t quite go like this.

Our group was about 13 people, already large, and the arrival of a second group needing a last-minute place to stay had put our host family over capacity. They seemed understandably upset about this influx of visitors, and once they showed us where to sleep and put out a very small dinner for us, they sequestered themselves away and didn’t see us till morning. We sat by ourselves squished around an outdoor table with a couple fluorescent lanterns, swatting away mosquitoes and spraying insect repellant religiously. There was no cultural exchange and no attempting to understand each other’s languages (tribal languages are spoken in the villages, so even those of us with a basic understanding of Vietnamese would be lost).

This led me to question the very idea of a homestay in a remote village with the hill tribes of Vietnam. I wondered how much this family was paid, if they were paid more for this extra group of tourists, if it was enough to cover their costs, if they did it out of necessity or a genuine interest. (I assumed it was the former.) Did any homestay families host foreigners out of sheer desire? Or was it purely economical? I suddenly felt acutely aware of my privilege and uncomfortably imposing.

We slept in the loft above the family’s home, shoulder-to-shoulder on bed mats that my very sore muscles did not appreciate. We woke to a meager breakfast of thin banana pancakes and after a quick hello to some neighborhood children, we set off again.

In the early morning light, the mountains before us looked ethereal and other-worldly. Soon enough we were traipsing up and down them, across valleys and waterfalls, past children playing on the side of the road and litters of piglets playing in streams. We were deep in the Vietnamese countryside now, and I don’t think any of us could stop smiling. The landscape felt removed and untouched as if you could exist there without the strife of world wars, heartbreak and cringe-worthy politics. It felt like a magical realm where nothing existed but fresh air and sunshine and smiling babies. By the time we reached our endpoint, I was glad to be done trekking but devastated to be heading back to the busy-ness and chaos of the city.

We had pho for lunch at a little roadside cafe before being picked up and taken back to the town. I marveled at the speed of the van, taking us back along dirt roads built into the mountainside, a one hour drive covering the distance of a two-day trek. Entering downtown Sa Pa again felt like popping the bubble, and I immediately mourned for the misty mountains and quiet green countryside we’d left behind.

Sa Pa will always occupy a corner of my heart, and will forever be the mystical place that lured me into the hill tribes of Vietnam — a trip to this Southeast Asian country would not be complete without it.

The mountains are waiting for you.

Suggested next reading: Going To Vietnam? Don’t Miss This Essential Travel Hack

The post Hiking Into The Clouds With The Hill Tribes Of Northern Vietnam appeared first on Modern Trekker.