Da Lat & Ho Chi Minh City

As the night cast a mysterious veil over the city, we embarked on an overnight bus journey to Da Lat, a place veiled in secrets and allure. The predawn arrival left us fatigued, yet our spirits remained high in anticipation of the enigmatic experiences awaiting us.

Amidst the early morning mist, a quest for breakfast led us to a quaint eatery serving vegan pho, a tantalizing start to a day brimming with intrigue. Energized by an iced cup of coffee, we ventured towards the enigmatic Datanla waterfall, shrouded in beauty but teeming with tourists.

Driven by a quest to swim in the mystical lake, our hopes were dashed as no suitable spot unveiled itself. However, serendipity favored us with two breathtaking vistas for lunch, providing solace for our thwarted quest. 

The day came to an end with a dinner of colourful rices and the realisation that we both got sunburned over the day.

The next dawn heralded a journey through the city's labyrinthine streets, coffee and tea fueling our exploration past lakeshores and intriguing edifices. A hasty retreat to the hostel, punctuated by a lunchtime interlude, preceded a tumultuous race to the bus station, threatening to obscure our passage to HCMC. 

After an eight hour journey with a surprisingly modern though wifi less bus. We arrived in the metropole of Ho Chi Minh city that night.

When the following dawn broke, we embarked on a journey to Cu Chi tunnels. Eager to shun the beaten path, eschewing the usual tours for an authentic local experience. A chance encounter with a Danish companion set the tone for an expedition shrouded in historical intrigue.

Inside the claustrophobic tunnels, echoes of a bygone era reverberated as we delved into their secrets. A vintage film transported us to a time rife with tales of conflict, honor, and underground survival, illuminating the guerilla warfare woven into Cu Chi's history.

Tight, suffocating tunnels bore witness to the wartime struggles, echoing with tales of guerilla warfare and the clandestine survival of a village submerged beneath the earth. Lessons absorbed in sweat and fatigue marked the return journey, a weary stroll through the city's bustling veins before succumbing to sleep.

On the next day HCMC unfolded its enigmatic streets, revealing markets, hidden shops, and curious finds. A market yielded new trousers, book streets whispered tales, and a Gothic shop unique, cloak-like garments. A lunch of fried vermicelli fueled our journey to the pickup point, where the allure of our next destination, Ben Tre, awaited, promising another chapter in our unfolding mystery.