Viet Hai Village: A Poetic Hamlet In Vietnam

We’d just spent two days in Hanoi - beautiful and noisy, with excellent coffee. The kind that you would love to visit and will be then happy to catch a break from. So when we boarded our cruise in Halong Bay, I was excited to visit what they called a ‘quaint village’. I expected it to be one of the Instagrammable spots - curated, crowded, chaotic. When we got down from our boat and sat in our tuk tuk, there wasn’t another person in sight. Something inside me immediately quietened. I was stunned by the purity of the Viet Hai village.

The history of the fisher’s village in our tour guide’s voice was like background music for the view of high mountains and pristine fields where sun-kissed cows grazed in peace. Viet Hai village is rooted in the history of fishermen finding refuge away from the storm – sounds about right as that’s the kind of calm the village and its people evoked.

The villagers made us taste the local alcohol shots which were sweet and warm like the welcoming smiles on their faces. My Dad found his joy in the open pond fish spa and my mom enjoyed real-life bloom scrolling as the golden hour sister rented a bike and frolicked around riding on the clean, wide, and empty roads with the Vietnam flags fluttering everywhere we looked.

It was a hot day and the cafe across the street looked like an oasis in a poetically lush disney-like desert where Aladdin might have grown up. I craved a glass of iced coffee and planned to sip it while basking in solitude along the streets lining the village. A little girl appeared out of nowhere, held my hand and pulled me to what looked like her house, and doubled as the tiny cafe I had been eyeing. I was swayed by her brazen innocence.

She made me sit with her on a swing beside her, dipped her paintbrush into the river water and started painting my cheeks like it was the most natural thing to do. At that moment, I felt impossibly light. I forgot about the coffee, the plan to walk and take photographs, the heat, and let myself drown in the company of a child’s easy joy.

And just as I felt myself sinking into the quiet rhythm of the slow village life, our guide called out. It was time to go back to the cruise. I felt like Cinderella on loose who wanted to be caged in this moment a bit longer.