As Joey mentioned in his last post, a few days before arriving, we had a sudden realization: “Hmm… how exactly are we getting from A to B?” That’s when we discovered that Huế and Ninh Bình are not, in fact, neighbors. They are a solid 10-hour journey apart. Small details we had somehow overlooked.
After reviewing our options, we landed on an overnight sleeper bus. Not seats, actual beds. The kids thought this was the greatest idea in the history of transportation. A moving sleepover? Sold immediately. Since it was a 10-hour ride, overnight seemed genius.
We tried to book the 11:00 p.m. to 9:00 a.m. bus. Full. Of course. So we settled for the 8:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. arrival. Early arrival? Yes. Manageable? We thought so. We’d drop our bags, grab breakfast, and explore town like the well-rested travelers we confidently believed ourselves to be.
What we didn’t realize? We were arriving on Tết, Vietnam’s Lunar New Year. The biggest celebration of the year: think Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year combined!
Our bus left 45 minutes late. No problem, we thought. We’ll just arrive a bit later. We preemptively medicated everyone with Gravol because none of us knew if this would be a smooth ride or a 10-hour roller coaster. I fully expected to wake up with Teddy vomiting everywhere at 2 a.m. Miraculously, both kids fell asleep immediately.
I, however, did not. I read. I tossed. I turned like a rotisserie chicken trying to get comfortable. Around midnight, the bus pulled over. I assumed it was a bathroom stop. But when I peeked out the window, I realized we were just… parked on the side of the road for reasons unknown.
And then it happened. Midnight struck and the entire country exploded.
I had been told Vietnam does fireworks for New Year’s. I imagined organized city displays. You know… controlled and official.
Nope.
Apparently, every single family in Vietnam launches their own fireworks at midnight. We were in the middle of nowhere, and fireworks were going off in every direction: from houses, from fields and from places that didn’t even look like houses. It was magical, absolute chaos and slightly concerning. I have never seen anything like it.
Eventually, I fell asleep… only to be shaken awake by the driver gesturing urgently toward the door. We had arrived. I looked at my watch… 4:30 a.m! We weren’t supposed to arrive until 7:00…
“Are you sure?” I asked, half convinced we’d been dropped in the wrong place. “Yes, yes!” he insisted. Google Maps confirmed it: we were in Ninh Bình. Somehow, despite leaving late, he drove as if racing against time itself, cutting two hours off the journey.
So there we were, four humans half asleep standing in the dark on New Year’s morning. There were no Grab, no taxis and no lights. Just us and our increasingly questionable planning skills. After a few minutes of staring into the void, a man materialized whispering, “Taxi, taxi.” At that point, he could have been a ghost and we still would’ve said yes. He delivered us to our hotel… which was pitch black, silent and what seemed closed in a very “come back later” kind of way.
It was 4:45 a.m. Now what?
Joe went off scouting for other hotels around while I stood there, willing the door to open through sheer desperation. It did! Inside, a lone security guard was sleeping on the couch in the dark. Teddy whispered, “Mom… someone’s there.” Yes there was and honestly, we were the suspicious ones at this point. The guard kindly told us we could lie down on the couches until reception opened. So there we were, fully clothed, sprawled across lobby furniture, pretending this was all part of our carefully crafted travel plan.
Around 7:00 a.m., staff arrived. Our room wouldn’t be ready until 2:00 p.m. (naturally), so we dropped our bags and ventured into town.
Remember: Tết.
The town looked like a movie set where something bad had just happened. Almost everything was closed. We wandered empty streets until we finally found one glorious open café that brought us coffee, food and hope.
The kids even did some schoolwork, because nothing says “travelschooling” like post-sleeper-bus survival mode.
So how do we feel about this adventure?
The kids? “Best night ever. Can we do it again?”
Joe? Actively reconsidering our travel style.
Me? Honestly… it’s one of my favorite stories of the trip.
We survived. We saw fireworks like nowhere else on earth. We napped in a lobby. We drank much-needed coffee. And eventually, we got to our room and crashed properly.
The weather in Ninh Bình was… moody or as Google described it: “dull and dreary.” A bit harsh, but not entirely wrong. Honestly, we didn’t mind. After months of heat and sun, the clouds and mist felt refreshing and made everything look extra magical, like the mountains were trying to be mysterious on purpose. Ninh Bình is often called “Ha Long Bay on land,” and once you see it, you understand why: towering limestone cliffs rising out of rice fields in every direction. We stayed in Tam Coc, a small town perfectly located near all the main highlights and surrounded by views that don’t even seem real.
We took it very easy on the first day (for obvious, sleep-deprived reasons). In the afternoon, I went for a walk and within two minutes found myself in the middle of rice fields, surrounded by cliffs. No gradual build-up just straight into “wow.”
I made it to a pagoda built into a mountain, which already felt impressive, and then somehow found a small hidden trail that led to a quiet lake with no crowds, no noise, just one of those accidental travel moments that end up being the best ones.
Traveling during New Year has its pros and cons. On the good side, the town was incredibly quiet. We could walk or bike everywhere without worrying about traffic. Everything felt calm, peaceful, almost too quiet. On the downside, most of the restaurants I wanted to try were closed. The ones that were open had limited menus and seemed to be operating on “holiday mode.” At one point, even the ATMs ran out of cash.
During one of those quieter days, we rented bikes to explore the rice fields. The kids really wanted regular bikes, so we skipped the electric ones. This was a bold decision, considering the enthusiasm lasted longer than the energy. We biked through the fields, stopped at viewpoints, grabbed coffee and smoothies, and just took our time. It was simple, relaxed, and one of those days that didn’t need much to be great.
Since massages in Vietnam are ridiculously affordable, even cheaper than Thailand, we figured, why not lean into it again? The kids had been campaigning for foot massages for weeks, so we finally gave in. Watching them was so fun. There they were, all bundled up under warm blankets, face masks on like tiny spa influencers, getting their legs and feet pampered like royalty. At first, Teddy refused the mask. He was convinced he’d miss something important if he fell asleep. “I want to experience the whole thing,” he declared, wide-eyed and determined. No spa-napping for him. Meanwhile, Joey and I stretched out for a one-hour full-body massage that cost less than $20. At that price, it practically felt irresponsible to say no.
One morning, we decided to head to the famous viewpoint with a dragon on top of a mountain. It was cloudy and foggy, so expectations were low. We told ourselves we probably wouldn’t see much… which is always a great way to manage disappointment.
We went early to avoid the crowds, and surprisingly, it worked. After more than 500 steps (which the kids reported being “too easy”), we made it to the top and were rewarded with a beautiful view… and some very relaxed mountain goats. On the way down, it was packed with people. We felt extremely pleased with ourselves. This feeling would not last…
Another activity we really wanted to do was to go to Tràng An for a boat ride through the UNESCO site. Every blog said the same thing: go early or late to avoid the crowds.
Our first attempt? Rain.
Second attempt? Too foggy (or we thought). So we postponed, which, in hindsight, was a huge mistake!
On our last day, the weather finally cooperated. We aimed for 8:30 a.m., thinking we were making a smart, reasonable choice.
We were not. Worst decision ever!
When we arrived, it was absolute chaos: traffic jammed in every direction, crowds spilling over walkways, and lines that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere at once. It felt less like a peaceful nature escape and more like we’d accidentally wandered into a theme park on its busiest day of the year. Joey and the kids were already mentally in the car, ready to bail. Honestly, I don’t blame them. But it was our last day in the area, and I had my heart set on this tour. Against all odds, they agreed to stick it out with me… and I’m very glad they did.
We joined a line we thought was for tickets. It was not. It was the line for the boats which, unfortunately, require tickets first.
So we split up: Joe went to find the actual ticket line while I stayed with the kids in what can only be described as a very tight crowd situation. Personal space was… not a concept. Three hours later, yes, THREE, we finally made it onto a boat. And that was with splitting up. Had we stayed together, we might still be in line right now.
After some quick research, we realized what had happened: it was still Tết, and now that families had finished celebrating at home, everyone was out traveling.
Which explained why there were almost no foreigners and thousands of Vietnamese visitors.
By the time we got on the boat, our hopes for a quiet, peaceful ride were… adjusted. There were boats everywhere. But the weather had cleared, the sun was out, and the scenery was absolutely beautiful. So even though it wasn’t the calm experience we imagined, it was still a really special one.
And honestly, that sums up our stay in Ninh Bình. Was it smooth? Absolutely not. Was it memorable? 100%. And isn’t that kind of the point?
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